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RACHEL    DENE 


A   TALE   OF   THE   DEEPDALE   MILLS 


EV 


ROBERT   BUCHANAN 

AUTHOR  OF 
'god  and  the  man,"  "  THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  SWORD,"  ETC. 


A    NE  IV   EDITION 


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1895 


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CONTENTS. 


CHAriER 

I.    Found  in  the  Snow 

PAGE 
1 

II. 

Bad  News  travels  Fast 

9 

III. 

Little  Rachel 

...       19 

IV. 

Two  Lads  and  a  Lass     ... 

28 

V. 

A  Game  at  Lawn-Tennis 

...       39 

VI. 

The  Great  Invention 

49 

VII. 

A  Black  Monday 

...      57 

VIII. 

Ealph  Mollis     ... 

68 

IX. 

A  Forewarning 

...      76 

X. 

The  Feast  op  St.  Leger 

83 

XI. 

After  the  Legeb 

...       95 

XII. 

Jabez  Prtke's  Vigil 

103 

XIII. 

Up  at  the  Mill 

...     113 

XIV. 

The  Dead  Man  ... 

118 

XV. 

The  Inquest 

...     124 

XVI. 

The  Earl  of  Beauchamp 

131 

XVII. 

The  Primrose  Path  ... 

...     144 

iVIII. 

'TwixT  Dover  and  Calais 

156 

VI"  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTKE  J-AOB 

XIX.  Guilty  or  not  Guilty         ...  ...           ...    165 

XX.  Under  Sentence  of  Death  ...            ...            170 

XXI.  Prison  Walls          ...            ...  ...            ...     180 

XXII.  Another  Change           ...  ...            ...            193 

XXIII.  Captain  Fitzherbert           ...  ...  ...    204 

XXIV.  Rachel  on  the  Watch...  ...  ...            211 

XXV.  Fitzherbert  gets  into  Trouble        ...  ...    220 

XXVI.  The  Two  Prisoners       ...  ...            ...           210 

XXVII.  A  Eomantic  Episode            ...  ...            ...    240 

XXVIII.  In  Brittany 266 

XXIX.  A  Sunbeam  m  Deepdale      ...  ...            ...     277 


RACHEL    DENE, 


CHAPTER  I. 

FOUND   IN   THE    SNOW. 

It  was  Christmas  Eve.  Two  men  and  a  woman 
Bat,  snow-surrounded,  in  the  parlour  of  a  small 
cottage  in  the  valley  of  Deepdale,  Yorkshire.  One 
man  was  old,  and  the  woman  was  his  grey,  world- 
worn  wife;  the  other  man  was  young,  hale,  and 
hearty. 

"Here's  Jack's  health,"  said  the  old  man, 
Jasper  Heywood. 

*'  And  here's  Jack's  wife,"  said  Joan. 

"Nay,  let  us  toast  them  together,"  interposed 
the  young  man  ;  "  for  sure  man  and  wife  are  one 
flesh — so  here's  to  'em  both,  and  God  send  'em 
safely  home  from  these  cruel  wars." 

"  Thou  mayst  well  say  cruel,  Jabez,"  replied 
Joan.  "Ah,  if  I  had  my  wa3%  there'd  be  no 
fighting  men  abroad,  nor  weeping  wenches  at 
home !  " 

"  Stop  there,  woman,"  said  Jasper.     "  An  there 


2  RACHEL  DENE. 

was  no  fightin'  men  abroad,  what'd  become  o'  the 
weepin'  wenches  at  home  ? — what'd  become  o'  ifs, 
and  our  tight  little  island,  I'd  like  to  know — eh, 
Jabez  ?  " 

"Well,  father,  when  the  world  grows  older  and 
wiser,  perhaps  folk  will  find  something  better  to 
do  than  cut  other  folk's  throats  ;  but  I  fear  that 
won't  be  in  your  time,  or  mine." 

*'  Likely  not,"  was  the  reply.  "  Meanwhile, 
since  Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year,  let's  be 
jolly.  Load  thy  pipe,  lad — here's  a  bit  o'  rare 
bird's-eye ;  and,  good  wife,  mull  us  another  mug 
o'  elder,  and  come  round  t'  fire,  for  sure  it's  a 
bitter  neet." 

The  old  man  was  right.  It  was  a  bitter  night 
indeed.  The  wind,  however,  had  dropped,  and 
the  snow,  which  had  been  falling  almost  incessantly 
for  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  had  almost  ceased. 

All  was  calm  now,  and  still. 

"When  Jabez  Pryke  came  down  from  Deepdale 
Mills  the  night  before,  to  pass  Christmas  with  his 
adopted  father,  Jasper  Heywood,  and  his  wife 
Joan,  the  grey  goose  in  the  sky  was  only  just 
beginning  to  shed  her  feathers ;  but  now  she  had 
shed  them  till  the  heavens  were  bare. 

The  snowdrift  had  fallen  in  the  valley  breast 
high,  and  the  roads  were  nigh  impassable. 

"  Strikes  me,  Jabez,"  said  Joan,  *'  thou'lt  have 
to  stay  here  for  t'  next  week ;  for  sure,  thou'lt 
never  be  able  to  get  to  t'  mills  wi'out  a  snow- 
sledge." 


FOUND  IN  THE  SNOW,  3 

"  Well,  good  mother,"  answered  the  young  man, 
laughing,  "  I  couldna  wish  for  better  company, 
nor  a  warmer  welcome,  though  for  certain  I 
promised  t'  gaffer  to  dine  up  at  t'  Hall  to-morrow ; 
and  he'll  think  I'm  lost  i'  t'  snow-drift  if  he  doesna 
see  me." 

"  Come  i'  t'  ingle  neuk;  draw  thysen  up  t'  fire," 
replied  Joan. 

The  yule  log  crackled  on  the  hearth,  and  shed 
a  ruddy  glow  on  the  cosy  cottage  and  its  occupants, 
as  they  gathered  closer  to  the  fire. 

Old  friends  these — friends  of  many  years'  stand- 
ing. Although  Jabez  Pryke  had  barely  turned 
his  five-and-twentieth  year,  while  Jasper  and  his 
wife  were  approaching  the  meridian  of  life,  Jabez 
remembered  them  as  long  as  he  could  remember 
anything;  for,  when  left  an  orphan,  they  had 
taken  him  home  and  brought  him  up,  side  by  side 
with  their  own  boy,  the  little  fair-haired  Jack ; 
and  from  that  time  forth  the  two  lads  loved  one 
another,  even  as  David  and  Jonathan. 

Once,  and  only  once,  an  interruption  occurred 
to  their  friendship.  Of  course  it  was  a  woman, 
and  the  old  story.  They  both  loved  the  same 
woman.  But  Jael  Hoyle  loved  Jack ;  and  no 
wonder,  for  he  was  a  jovial,  genial,  good-looking, 
good-hearted  lad,  whom  to  look  at  was  to  love; 
while  poor  Jabez  was  gaunt,  and  gauche,  and 
lantern- jawed,  and  looked  twice  his  years.  In 
truth,  he  had  little  or  nothing  about  him  to 
captivate   a  woman's   eye,  nothing  but  a    heart 


4  RACHEL  DENE. 

of  gold ;  but  that  was  out  of  sight,  and  counted  for 
little  in  the  contest. 

When  he  saw  that  the  girl  he  loved  loved  his 
friend,  he  gulped  down  his  sorrow  and  said  nothing ; 
nay,  more,  he  was  best  man  at  the  wedding,  and, 
despite  the  hidden  wolf  gnawing  at  his  heart,  he 
kept  a  stiff  upper  lip  and  a  smiling  face  till  the 
hard  day's  work  was  done,  and  he  reached  his 
little  chamber,  and  was  alone  with  his  God  and 
his  great  grief. 

Bride  and  bridegroom  went  on  a  visit  to  Jack's 
uncle,  the  dalesman  in  Cumberland,  for  their 
humble  honeymoon.  When  they  came  back,  a 
week  later,  Jabez  had  left  his  old  home  for  good 
and  all. 

It  was  a  wrench,  but  the  thing  had  to  be  done, 
and  so  the  sooner  it  was  done  the  better. 

The  day  after  the  wedding  he  went  up  to  the 
master  of  the  mills. 

Jacob  Dene  was  a  shrewd,  observant  man ;  and 
when  Jabez  told  him  that  he  was  bent  on  going  to 
London  to  seek  his  fortune,  Jacob  soon  learned  the 
secret  of  his  servant,  and  sympathized  with  him, 
remembering  that  he  had  once  been  young  him- 
self. 

In  the  end,  Jabez  did  not  go  to  London;  he 
stayed  at  Deepdale,  took  up  his  quarters  at  the 
mills,  became  a  trusted  servant  and  faithful  friend. 
Henceforth  his  lines  were  cast  in  pleasant  places 
— that  is,  if  any  place  could  be  pleasant  to  him 
without  the  lass  he  loved. 


FOUND  IN  THE  SNOW.  5 

All  is  not  gold  that  glitters,  and  she  had  perhaps 
done  better  had  she  married  him  instead  of  her 
graceless  Jack. 

Twelve  months  after  the  marriage,  Jacob  Dene's 
only  son  came  home  with  his  beautiful  young  wife. 
This  gay  and  gallant  youth  was  a  captain  in  the 
fighting  Forty-First. 

He  and  Jack  and  Jabez  had  been  playmates. 
It  is  true  he  had  never  cared  much  for  Jabez,  but 
Jack  and  he  had  played  truant  together,  stolen 
bird's  nests,  and  robbed  orchards  together  in  their 
boyhood,  and  when  they  met  after  some  years' 
absence  they  fraternized  as  of  old.  Jacob  was  a 
rich  man's  son,  and  Jack  was  poor  ;  but  they  were 
made  of  the  same  stuff,  and  when  the  one  was 
summoned  to  join  his  regiment,  he  had  little 
difficulty  in  inducing  the  other  to  take  the  Queen's 
shilling,  and  accompany  him  over  the  sea. 

They  sailed  the  same  day,  and  at  the  same 
hour,  from  Southampton  for  India,  accompanied 
by  their  young  wives. 

That  was  two  years  past,  and  more. 

Those  were  perilous  times.  The  Oaks  and  Row- 
land Cottage  heard  regularly  from  the  dear  ones 
until  the  Mutiny  broke  out.  Then  tidings  came 
fitfully,  or  came  not  at  all. 

At  last  came  news  which  set  every  English  heart 
on  fire — news  of  the  well  of  Cawnpore  and  the 
siege  of  Lucknow. 

"It's  strange,"  said  Joan,  "  that  we've  no  news 
of  Jack  or  Jael." 


6  RACHEL  DENE. 

"  No  news  is  good  news,  owd  lass,"  cried  her 
husband ;  "so  let  us  hope  that  Jack  and  his  wife 
have  got  clear  with  a  whole  skin  from  those  Injun 
cut-throats." 

"Amen!  "  replied  Jabez. 

Then,  for  a  time,  they  subsided  into  silence  as 
they  communed  with  their  own  sad  thoughts. 
The  old  dame's  heart  sank  within  her  when  she 
thought  that  her  boy  might  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  bloody  Nana ;  while  Jabez  conjured 
up  in  the  fire  a  fair  face  and  a  pair  of  haunting, 
unforgotten  eyes — a  face  which  grew  clearer  and 
more  distinct  every  moment. 

At  this  very  instant,  when  they  heard,  or  thought 
they  heard,  nothing  but  the  beating  of  their  own 
hearts,  the  silence  was  broken  by  a  low,  soft  wail 
from  without. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Joan.     "  Hush  !  " 

Again  the  sound  broke  on  the  stillness,  this  time 
louder  than  before. 

"The  lantern — quick,  the  lantern  !  "  cried  Jabez. 

Without  pausing,  he  rushed  out,  followed  by 
Jasper  and  his  wife. 

Struggling  through  the  snow,  they  reached  the 
garden  gate. 

In  front  of  it,  face  downwards,  lay  a  woman, 
clad  in  a  large  woollen  shawl  and  a  dark,  travel- 
stained  dress ;  a  kerchief  of  vivid  crimson  from 
which  her  long  dark  hair  had  escaped  streaming 
in  abundance  over  her  shoulders,  was  bound  round 
her  head. 


FOUND  IN  THE  SNOW.  7 

Once  more  arose  the  soft,  tender  wail  which 
had  brought  them  forth.  There  was  no  mistake 
now  from  whence  the  sound  came.  There  was 
something  beneath  the  woman's  shawl,  something 
which  breathed  and  stirred. 

•'  A  child  !  "  exclaimed  Joan. 

*'  The  lantern,  Jasper — the  lantern !  "  cried 
Jabez. 

*'  Here,  lad— here  !  " 

Jabez  climbed  the  gate,  stooped,  and,  lifting  the 
woman,  turned  her  face  to  the  light. 

"  My  God  !     Jael !  "  he  gasped. 

"  Jael— Jael !  " 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  stood  as  if  they 
were  frozen  to  ice ;  then  the  woman  said,  or, 
rather,  shrieked,  "What  are  you  standing  there 
for,  you  ?  Standin'  like  blocks  of  stone,  while  my 
boy's  wife  and  her  bairn  are  freezin'  to  death ! 
Look  alive — d'ye  hear,  d'ye  hear?  Gi'  me  t' 
lantern  !  Tear  t'  gate  up  by  t'  roots,  gin  ye  canna 
push  it  back  !  " 

Even  as  she  spoke  the  two  men  tore  the  gate 
up,  and  plucked  it  forth  from  the  snow,  then 
laying  the  woman  and  the  child  upon  it,  they 
carried  them  to  the  cottage. 

"Away  wi'  ye  for  five  minutes,"  said  Joan; 
**  this  is  a  woman's  business,  not  yourn.  Stay ! 
Take  t'  mattress  off  t'  bed,  pillows,  bolsters,  and 
bring  'm  here.  Now  t'  sponge — t'  panshion 
—  mustard  —  hot  water.  That'll  do;  away  ye 
go  I » 


8  RACHEL  DENE. 

When  they  returned  from  the  kitchen,  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  later,  the  child  lay  croodling  on  the 
hearth  before  the  fire.  The  mother,  pale  and 
helpless,  almost  speechless,  lay  beside  him. 

"  The  doctor — send  for  the  doctor,  Jabez,"  cried 
Joan. 

"  Nay,  mother,"  gasped  Jael.  **  I'm  past  doctor's 
help.  I've  reached  the  end  of  my  journey,  and 
am  grateful  to  God  that  He  has  brought  me  here 
to  die." 

"But  you'll  no  die,  hinny;  we'll  not  lot  ye  die 
— ye'U  live,  live  for  Jack's  sake." 

"  I'm  going  to  join  him,  mother." 

"  What !  my  Jack  dead  ?— dead  !  " 

"Yes,  mother,  I  saw  him  struck  down  before 
my  very  eyes  at  Lucknow,  while  trying  to  save 
young  Jacob  Dene  from  one  of  the  murdering 
savages.  He  had  only  time  to  say,  *  Go  home, 
take  t'  bairn  to  father  and  mother,  and  Jabez, 
and  tell  'em  to  love  him  for  poor  Jack's  sake.' 
And  you  see,"  she  added  faintly,  "  here  I  am  with 
little  Jack." 

After  a  moment's  pause,  Jabez  inquired  tenderly, 
"  And  Lucy — Lucy  Dene  ?  " 

"  The  well— the  well  of  Cawnpore  !  "  gasped  the 
dying  woman. 

A  thrill  of  horror  passed  through  her  listeners, 
and  she  herself  fell  back  in  an  agony  of  past  horror 
and  present  pain. 

"  The  doctor,  the  doctor  !  "  again  cried  Joan. 

"Never    mind  t'    doctor,"    moaned  the   dying 


SAD  NEWS   TRAVELS   FAST.  g 

woman.  "  Kiss  mo,  mother,  father,  kiss  me. 
Jabez,  won't  you  kiss  me,  too  ?  My  poor  lad 
used  to  say  out  yonder,  Jabez,  that  if  aught 
happened  to  him  thou'dst  be  a  feyther  to  little 
Jack." 

She  looked  for  a  moment  into  the  face  of  her 
faithful  friend  and  lover ;  then,  smiling  faintly  as 
he  bent  and  touched  her  forehead  with  his  young 
lips,  she  sank  back  and  died. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BAD  NEWS   TEAVELS   FAST. 

As  the  distant  bells  of  Deepdale  rang  in  the 
Christmas  Day,  Jabez  Pryke  stood  up  on  the  snow- 
covered  moorland,  gazing  down  the  valley  towards 
the  dark  smoke-covered  town  and  high  buildings 
of  the  mills.  He  was  quite  alone,  and  remained 
for  a  long  time  like  one  in  a  dream.  The  winter 
morning  was  still  and  peaceful,  the  snow  had 
ceased  to  fall,  and  the  sky  was  quite  light  and 
clear.  He  had  wandered  thither  before  daybreak, 
to  commune  with  his  own  sad  thoughts. 

So  lonely  and  so  pastoral  was  the  scene,  so 
devoid  of  all  signs  of  life,  that  the  solitary  man 
might  have  been  taken  for  a  shepherd  on  some 
mountain  far  removed  from  men.  On  every  side 
stretched  the  white   moorland,  rising  up  behind 


10  RACHEL  DENE. 

Lim  to  hills  of  grass  and  heather,  and  strewn 
everywhere  with  rocks  and  boulders  glistening 
moistly  in  the  morning  sun.  To  his  left,  half  a 
mile  away,  flowed  the  river,  thinly  sheeted  with 
glistening  ice,  and  creeping  silently  down  towards 
the  mills,  and  between  him  and  Dee^Ddale  stood  the 
cottage  which  contained  the  dead  form  of  the  only 
being  he  had  ever  loved. 

Tall,  gaunt,  ungainly,  with  a  thin,  worn  face, 
and  sad,  weary  eyes,  he  looked  much  older  than 
his  years.  His  shoulders  stooped  habitually,  as 
if  under  some  heavy  burthen,  and,  shepherd-like, 
he  leaned  upon  a  thick  oaken  staff ;  indeed,  though 
his  life  was  spent  in  the  busy  whirl  of  manufacture, 
he  had  the  brooding,  wistful  air  of  men  who  dwell 
constantly  alone.  He  wore  black  to-day,  an  ill- 
fitting  suit  of  broadcloth,  and  a  black  slouch  hat 
was  drawn  down  upon  his  brows. 

When  his  hour  of  trial  came,  he  had  yielded 
up  Jael  Heywood  with  scarcely  a  visible  sign  of 
pain.  It  was  not  in  the  man's  nature  to  parade 
either  his  joy  or  his  grief.  But  he  had  wandered 
up  to  the  moorland,  as  to-day,  to  the  very  spot 
where  he  now  stood,  and  had  his  dark  hour  alone. 
How  well  he  remembered  it  all !  It  was  summer 
then,  and  the  moor  was  scented  and  alive ;  but  his 
heart  was  not  less  desolate  and  cold  than  on  this 
weary  wintry  day. 

Even  in  his  utter  desolation  there  was  a  strange 
sense  of  awe  and  rapture.  She  he  loved  was  at 
peace  with  God ;  she  was  God's  only  now,  and  all 


BAD  NEWS   TRAVELS   FAST,  ii 

bitterness  "was  over ;  and,  crowning  grace  of  all, 
sbe  bad  died  witli  bis  name  upon  lier  lips,  con- 
fiding to  bis  care  ber  little  belpless  cbild.  Stand- 
ing tbere  alone,  and  gazing  on  tbe  roof  beneatli 
wbicb  sbe  lay  in  deatb,  Jabez  swore  tbat  be  would 
fulfil  tbat  sacred  trust,  and  be  a  fatber  to  tbe  little 
Jack. 

At  last,  slowly  and  sadly,  be  turned  bis  steps 
towards  Deepdale,  toiling  tbrougb  tbe  snow,  and 
following  tbe  windings  of  tbe  frozen  river.  Turn- 
ing aside  before  be  readied  tbe  outskirts  of  tbe 
little  town,  wbere  Heywood's  cottage  stood,  be 
followed  tbe  road  eastward  till  be  came  in  sigbt  of 
tbe  old  cburcb.  He  drew  near  tbe  cburcbyard 
gate,  and  looked  over  upon  God's  acre,  wbere  bis 
beloved  Jael  was  soon  to  lie.  As  be  paused  tbus  a 
band  was  laid  upon  bis  sboulder,  and  a  cbeery 
voice  greeted  bim  by  name. 

Turning,  be  saw  tbe  very  man  be  was  going  to 
seek — Jobn  Lyster,  tbe  vicar  of  Deepdale. 

"  A  merry  Cbristmas,  Jabez  !  Counting  tbe 
tombstones,  eb  ?  A  cbeerless  occupation,  surely, 
for  Cbristmas  morning."  Tben,  startled  by  tbe 
expression  on  tbe  young  man's  face,  tbe  vicar  added, 
•'  Is  anytbing  tbe  matter  ?  " 

"  I  bave  bad  news,  sir,"  replied  Jabez,  gentlj'. 
"  Jael  Hey  wood — our  Jael,  young  Jack  Heywood's 
wife — came  back  last  nigbt  from  India." 

"  Impossible  !     Came  back,  do  you  say  ?  " 

"Ay,  sir;  came  back — to  die.  We  found  ber 
fainting  in  t'  snow,  wi'  ber  little  bairn,  and — and — 


12  RACHEL  DENE. 

she's  lying  yonder  in  lier  father's  cottage,  waiting 
till  they  carry  her  to  her  last  home." 

Despite  his  habitual  self-control,  the  man's  voice 
was  broken  with  sobs,  and,  leaning  his  head  upon 
the  gate,  he  moaned  as  if  in  mortal  pain. 

"  Bad  news,  indeed  !  "  cried  Mr.  Lyster.  "  Poor 
Jael !  she  was  a  pretty  lass  !  And  that  bright 
fellow,  her  husband — he " 

As  he  spoke,  Jabez  lifted  his  head  and  looked 
full  into  his  face,  with  a  gaze  so  wild,  so  woebegone, 
that  he  knew  at  once  that  there  was  more  to  come. 
Then,  in  a  few  words,  Jabez  told  him  all  the  terrible 
tale  which  Jael  had  told  with  her  dying  lips,  of 
the  murderous  work  far  away,  of  carnage,  of  horror, 
and  the  hideous  well  of  Cawnpore. 

"  My  child  ! — my  little  Lucy  !  "  cried  the  vicar, 
hiding  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  sobbing  like  a 
child. 

It  was  his  turn  now  to  suffer,  and,  after  a  few 
more  piteous  words,  he  passed  through  the  church- 
yard gate,  and  entered  the  church,  to  pass  Ms  dark 
hour  there. 

Sick  at  heart,  Jabez  Pryke  walked  on.  His  work 
was  not  yet  done.  He  had  to  carry  the  sad  news 
onward,  and,  though  his  heart  sank  within  him,  he 
would  trust  the  task  to  no  other  man. 

Following  the  road,  he  made  the  best  of  his  way 
to  the  house  of  his  master  and  employer,  Jacob 
Dene,  owner  of  the  great  Deepdale  Mills.  The 
Oaks,  as  it  was  called,  was  situated  half  a  mile 
from  the  church  and  Vicarage,  on  an  eminence  juet 


BAD  NEWS   TRAVELS   FAST.  13 

beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  little  town.  It  was  a 
new  mansion,  and  took  its  name  from  the  young 
trees  which  had  been  planted  in  front  of  its 
spacious  garden. 

Eeaching  the  iron  gate,  ho  passed  up  a  winding 
carriage  path,  and  stood  on  the  broad  stone  steps 
of  the  house — a  plain,  but  spacious  building,  of  no 
pretensions  to  architectural  beauty.  With  a  deep 
sigh,  he  rang  the  bell.  A  plainly  dressed  serving 
woman  opened  the  door. 

"  Is  t'  master  in  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Pryke." 

**  And  t'  mistress  ?  "  he  added,  thinking  with  a 
tremor  of  the  tale  he  had  to  tell. 

**Nay;  mistress  has  just  stepped  out  to  see  a 
sick  lass  i'  the  town." 

Jabez  stepped  into  the  hall,  and  stood  there 
bareheaded. 

"  Tell  t'  master  I  wish  to  see  him." 

The  woman  disappeared,  and  returning  almost 
immediately,  ushered  Jabez  into  a  large,  plainly 
furnished  study  at  the  rear  of  the  mansion,  where 
a  tall  man  in  the  prime  of  life  sat  reading ;  a  man 
with  a  square  determined  face  and  keen  black  eyes, 
but  with  lines  of  gentleness  around  his  mouth. 
He  looked  up  and  nodded  as  the  young  man 
entered. 

"Well,  Jabez,  what  brings  thee  here  on  Christ- 
mas morning  ?  " 

**  Bad  news,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

•*  Nothing  wrong  at  the  works,  my  lad  ?  " 


14  RACHEL  DENE, 

''Nay,  sir;  worse  than  that.  It's  bad  news 
from  far  away — something  that  concerns  your  son." 

Jacob  Dene  rose  to  his  feet,  and  saw,  as  the  vicar 
had  done,  the  shadow  of  the  coming  sorrow  on  the 
man's  grief-stricken  face. 

"  Speak  out,  man !  What  is  it  ?  No  harm  has 
come  to  him  ?    He  is  not — dead  ?  " 

Jacob  did  not  reply  in  words,  but  the  look  in  his 
eyes  was  enough,  and  Jacob  Dene  staggered  as  if 
before  a  blow.  Then  the  story  was  told,  as  before. 
Silently,  without  tears,  but  pale  as  death,  Jacob 
Dene  listened ;  then,  turning  away  his  face,  and 
gazing  out  through  the  window  of  the  room,  he 
motioned  Jabez  to  leave  him  alone. 

To  understand  the  position  of  affairs,  especially 
as  it  concerned  the  present  head  of  the  great 
Deepdale  Mills,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  back  a 
little. 

The  Denes  had  been  settled  at  Deepdale  since 
Jacob,  first  of  that  name,  came  back  from  America 
with  William  Penn,  after  having  helped  that  astute 
man  to  found  Pennsylvania. 

Jacob  Dene  the  first  had  been  attracted  to  the 
beautiful  Yorkshire  valley  by  the  bright  eyes  of 
Eachel  Hunsden,  a  beautiful  Yorkshire  girl. 
When  he  married  her,  he  settled  down  in  the 
valley,  and  there  the  Denes  had  stayed  from  that 
day  to  this.  Like  the  friend  of  the  founder  of  the 
family,  they  had  all  been  born  and  bred  Quakers. 
Up  to  a  hundred  years    ago  they  had  all  been 


BAD  NEWS   TRAVELS   FAST.  15 

farmers,  but  the  Jacob  (for  the  first-born  lad  was 
always  a  Jacob,  as  the  first-born  lass  was  always  a 
Eachel)  of  that  day  became  acquainted  with 
Eichard  Arkwright,  took  up  his  famous  invention, 
and  went  into  the  spinning  business  ;  and  so  from 
email  beginnings  were  developed  the  great  Deepdale 
Mills,  and  Dene,  alpaca,  subluna,  and  vecuna 
manufacturers,  who  traded  all  over  the  world. 
They  employed  several  thousand  hands,  and  the 
Deepdale  Mills  were  the  pride  of  all  Yorkshire. 

Every  modern  appliance  and  improvement  had 
been  brought  to  bear  upon  the  manufactory  for  the 
good  of  employer  and  employed;  while  the  little 
town  itself,  its  church,  its  schools,  its  baths,  its 
gardens,  its  college  and  park,  were  the  envy  and 
admiration  of  the  country,  and  all  broad  England 
besides. 

Jacob  Dene,  the  present  master  of  the  mills,  was 
an  austere  man ;  but  he  was  a  large-hearted  and 
liberal,  and,  in  many  respects,  a  modern  idea'd 
man — possibly  a  little  too  modern  idea'd — for  he 
loathed  the  profession  of  arms  as  much  as  he 
detested  capital  punishment.  Except  hanging  a 
man,  he  maintained  that  the  worst  use  to  which  a 
man  could  be  put  was  the  occupation  of  cutting 
throats  for  hire.  He  was  not  one  of  those  men 
who  confine  their  interest  in  a  subject  to  a  merely 
theoretical  view  of  it ;  hence,  upon  a  certain 
memorable  occasion,  he  formed  one  of  a  deputa- 
tion who  travelled  to  St.  Petersburg  to  wait  upon 
the  Tsar  for  the  purpose  of  beseeching  the  Autocrat 


i6  RACHEL  DENE. 

of  the  North  to  refer  some  impending  war  to 
arbitration.  As  everybody  knows,  the  Quaker  and 
his  fi'iends  had  their  journey  for  nothing ;  still, 
they  had  done  their  best,  and  no  one  can  do  better 
than  that. 

These  being  Jacob's  views,  it  may  readily  be 
conceived  that  he  was  distressed  beyond  measure 
when  his  only  son  and  heir,  young  Jacob  Dene,  in 
direct  defiance  of  the  family  traditions,  became  a 
soldier.  Nor  were  matters  much  mended  when 
he  espoused  Lucy  Lyster,  the  vicar's  pretty  but 
penniless  daughter. 

True,  poor  Lucy  was  as  good  as  she  was  beauti- 
ful ;  but  the  Denes  had  always  married  money  and 
land,  and  when  there  was  neither  one  nor  the 
other,  it  widened  the  breach.  And  so,  when  they 
parted,  and  the  last  "  good-bye  "  was  said,  although 
there  was  no  bad  blood  'twixt  son  and  sire,  there 
was  some  coldness  between  them,  and  more  between 
Jacob  Dene  and  the  vicar  of  Deepdale. 

The  truth  was,  Jacob  thought  that  the  vicar  had 
been  too  facile  and  compliant  a  father,  and  that, 
in  point  of  fact,  he  had  planted  his  penniless 
daughter  upon  the  wealthy  heir  of  the  Deepdale 
Mills.  Never  was  there  a  graver  mistake,  or  a 
greater  injustice.  The  young  couple  loved  each 
other,  and  all  the  fathers  and  mothers  in  the 
world  would  have  been  powerless  to  have  kept 
them  apart. 

As  the  reader  already  knows,  when  Captain 
Dene  went  out  to  India  with  his  young  wife,  Jasper 


SAD  NEWS   TRAVELS  FAST.  iy 

Heywood's  son  Jack  and  his  wife  Jael  sailed  with 
them. 

It  was  a  heavy  day  at  Deepdale  when  these 
young  people  left  their  native  valley.  Jacob  Dene 
seemed  hard  and  self-contained,  and  bade  them  a 
cold  good-bye ;  but  many  days  elapsed  before  he 
returned  to  himself.  When  the  poor  mother  loses 
her  only  son,  the  blow  falls  as  heavily  in  the  palace 
as  the  cottage,  and  Susanna  Dene  bewailed  her 
boy  as  much  as  Joan  Hey  wood  bewept  hers. 

Jabez  Pryke,  who  suffered  most  of  all,  kept  his 
sorrow  to  himself.  He  and  the  vicar  accompanied 
the  young  people  to  Southampton  to  see  the  last 
of  them ;  and  from  that  time  forth  the  lonely  man 
and  the  lonely  parson  (for  Mr.  Lyster  was  a 
widower)  were  firm  friends.  The  latter  had  in- 
stinctively divined  Jabez's  secret,  and  sympathized 
with  his  grief  and  self-abnegation. 

Jabez  Pryke  left  the  master  of  the  mills  to  brood 
over  the  terrible  story  which  Jael  Heywood  had 
brought  from  Lucknow.  The  master  of  the  mills 
remained  for  a  long  time  silent,  as  a  man  trans- 
fixed to  stone.  Two  hours  later,  however,  he  went 
down  to  the  Vicarage.  Extending  his  hand  to  his 
quondam  enemy,  he  said — 

"  Friend,  thou  hast  heard." 

"  The  Lord  giveth,  and  the  Lord  taketh  away, 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  replied  the  vicar. 

"I  have  tried  to  school  myself  to  say  so," 
returned  the  millionaire,  **but  I  cannot  as  yet; 

0 


i8  RACHEL   DENE. 

my  heart  was  ever  rebellious.  It  runs  in  the  blood 
of  the  Denes.  Well,  I  am  justly  punished.  We  are 
two  childless  old  men ;  those  whom  we  loved  have 
been  taken  from  us,  and  have  left  no  sign  that  they 
ever  lived.  It  is  hard  to  bear.  Let  us  not  make  it 
harder  still  by  enmity.  Canst  thou  forgive  me  ?  " 
The  vicar  grasped  his  hand  in  silence,  and  no 
more  was  said ;  but  from  that  time  forth  all  was 
forgotten  and  forgiven. 

When  it  was  known  at  church  time  that  little 
Jack  and  his  mother  had  been  found  in  the  snow 
over  night,  outside  Heywood's  cottage,  the  whole 
valley  was  alive.  Foremost  among  the  visitors  to 
the  chamber  of  death  were  the  vicar,  Jacob  Dene, 
and  Susanna  his  wife.  Over  that  scene  of  common 
suffering  we  will  draw  a  veil. 

Every  one  wondered  how  poor  Jael  had  ever 
reached  Deepdale.  Subsequent  inquiries  served  to 
Bhow  that  the  Government  had  provided  for  her 
passage  to  England,  and  that,  on  her  arrival, 
although  enfeebled  by  disease  and  privation,  she 
persisted  in  pressing  onwards  to  her  native  valley ; 
that  when  she  arrived  at  Barford,  unable  to  obtain 
a  conveyance,  she  started  forth  to  walk,  was  over- 
taken by  the  snowstorm,  and  fell  death-stricken  on 
the  very  threshold  of  her  own  old  home. 

As  Jacob  Dene  gazed  on  the  infant  boy,  who,  all 
unmindful  of  his  loss,  lay  crowing  in  his  grandam's 
arms,  he  thought  that  he  would  have  given  all  the 
wealth  of  Deepdale  to  have  had  a  flower  like  that 
blossoming  in  his  childless  home. 


(      ^9      ) 


CIIAPTEE  III. 

LITTLE    EACHEL. 

Time  speedily  confirmecl  the  doleful  tidings  brought 
by  Jael  Heywood  to  Deepdale  that  memorablo 
winter  night.  Full  details  arrived  ere  long,  and 
there  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt  that  young 
Captain  Dene  had  fallen  at  the  moment  of  the 
relief  of  Lucknow,  and  Lucy  his  wife  was  among 
the  victims  at  Cawnpore.  As  they  read  the  horrible 
record,  both  Jacob  Dene  and  John  Lyster  forgot 
their  gentle  creed ;  the  one  remembered  no  longer 
that  he  was  a  clergyman,  the  other  that  he  was  a 
Quaker.  They  felt  only,  in  that  supreme  hour  of 
sorrow,  that  they  were  fathers  and  Englishmen. 

Their  hands  clenched,  their  eyes  flashing  fire, 
they  stood  together  outside  the  churchyard,  where 
poor  Jael  was  now  peacefully  asleep. 

The  vicar  exclaimed,  "  These  things  must  not 
be  thought  of,  but  they  make  men  mad  ! " 

"Not  thought  of?"  echoed  the  master  of  the 
mills.  "Not  thought  of?  I  can  think  of  naught 
but  thy  poor  child,  my  boy's  wife.  Had  I  been 
there  !  had  I  been  there  !  " 

"  Had  we  both  been  there  !  " 

Then  the  clergyman  said  something  very  un- 
canonical,  and  parson  and  Quaker,  after  wringing 
each  other's  hands,  strode  off  in  opposite  direc- 
tions to  walk  their  agony  away.    Women,  however, 


20  RACHEL  DENE. 

cannot  relieve  their  pent-up  sorrows  in  the  manner 
of  strong  men ;  they  can  only  suffer  and  endure. 
In  silence  and  alone,  the  poor  bereaved  mother, 
Susanna  Dene,  mourned  the  loved  ones  whose  loss 
had  made  her  home  so  desolate  ! 

In  that  terrible  hour  of  England's  ghastly  vic- 
tory, when  horror  was  piled  on  horror,  and  every 
day  brought  fresh  news  of  victory  blended  with 
calamity,  the  cries  of  grief  and  agony  were  echoed 
in  a  thousand  English  homes.  The  nation,  like 
Christian  in  the  fable,  was  passing  through  the 
very  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  Little  wonder, 
indeed,  that  men  forget  their  magnanimity,  and 
women  their  faith  in  God,  before  the  spectacle  of 
such  tribulation.  Justice  was  shaken  on  her 
throne;  Mercy,  like  an  avenging  angel,  changed 
her  nature  and  waved  the  bloody  dagger  of  re- 
venge, and  wherever  the  English  tongue  was 
spoken  rose  one  common  shriek  demanding 
retribution. 

Nature,  ever  heedless  of  the  fitful  and  unreason- 
ing strife  of  man,  continued  her  secret  ministra- 
tions, and  drew  over  the  graves  of  many  dead  her 
coverlet  of  grass  and  flowers.  The  winter  had 
passed  away,  and  spring  blew  her  windy  clarion 
on  the  hills.  Where  snow  had  lain  on  the  broad 
upland  moors,  the  thyme  and  heather  waved,  and 
the  air  hummed  with  sounds  of  joyful  life. 

One  Saturday  afternoon  in  early  summer,  Jabez, 
the  overseer,  left  the  mills,  and,  going  along  with 
the  stream  of  men  and  women  homeward  bound, 


LITTLE  RACHEL.  2i 

made  his  way  to  the  cliurcliyarcl,  to  gaze,  as  was 
his  constant  custom,  on  the  grave  of  poor  Jacl. 
Work  was  over  for  the  day,  and  the  folk  were 
swarming  like  bees  out  of  a  hive.  Elderly  men 
gathered  in  groups,  lads  went  along  arm  in  arm, 
lasses  laughed  and  flirted  with  their  sweethearts, 
and  above  the  hum  of  stronger  voices  rose  the  clear 
cries  of  children.  Jabez  heard  nothing,  heeded 
no  one ;  his  thoughts  were  far  away.  Leaving 
the  throng  behind  him,  he  strolled  into  the 
churchyard. 

He  knew  the  grave  among  all  the  rest.  It  lay 
in  the  sunny  corner  of  the  churchyard,  and  early 
spring  flowers,  crocus  and  anemone,  had  already 
been  placed  there  by  his  hands.  He  stood  for  a 
long  time  looking  down  upon  it,  and  thinking  of 
the  fragile  form  that  slept  below.  At  last,  passing 
his  hand  across  his  dim  eyes,  he  loft  the  grave,  and 
regained  the  open  road. 

Again  he  followed  the  road  up  towards  the  moor, 
and,  after  half  an  hour's  walk,  stood  among  the 
upland  grass  and  heather  and  looked  back  at 
Deepdale.  Sad  and  grief-worn  as  he  was,  his  spirit 
was  now  quite  at  peace.  Fresh  from  the  stress 
of  work  and  life,  he  enjoyed  his  own  loneliness  and 
that  of  the  beautiful  scene  surrounding  him. 

Many  a  time,  he  remembered,  he  had  wandered 
hither  with  Jael,  he  a  tall,  ungainly  lad,  she  a 
bright,  laughing  girl.  Both  were  too  young  to 
think  of  love,  but  he,  the  elder,  felt  something 
Btirring  in  his  heart  which  was  to  ripen  in  time  to 


22  RACHEL  DENE. 

tender  passion.  He  had  followed  his  little  play- 
mate like  her  shadow,  he  had  obeyed  like  a  slave 
the  slightest  waving  of  her  hand ;  and  then — and 
then,  afterwards,  had  come  the  knowledge  that  it 
was  all  hopeless,  and  that  the  light  in  her  young 
eyes,  the  love  in  her  young  heart,  was  not  for  Mm  ! 
Well,  it  was  all  over;  and  his  love  still  lived, 
though  Jael  was  dead.  He  would  not  have  had  it 
otherwise.  He  felt,  that  still  spring  morning,  that 
were  his  life  to  be  lived  again,  he  would  not  change 
it.  She  had  trusted  him  even  unto  death.  She 
had  left  him  her  last  blessing,  and  the  care  of 
her  little  child. 

As  he  turned  to  stroll  homeward  he  heard  the 
sound  of  carriage  wheels,  and  looking  backward  he 
saw  an  open  waggonette  coming  slowly  along  the 
road  which  winds  from  distant  Barford  across 
the  moor.  In  Deepdale  every  one  knew  his  neigh- 
bour, and  Jabez  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  occupants 
of  the  vehicle  were  strangers.  Behind  the  driver 
sat  a  lady  of  middle  age,  with  a  face  worn  but 
beautiful,  and  by  her  side,  looking  eagerly  out  at 
the  prospect,  stood  a  little  dark-haired  boy  of  three 
or  four.  Opposite  to  her  sat  a  black  woman,  clad 
in  the  familiar  costume  of  an  Indian  ayah,  and 
holding  in  her  arms  an  infant  child. 

As  Jabez  stood  on  the  roadside,  the  carriage 
approached  nearer.  The  sight  of  the  Indian 
woman  sent  the  thought  at  once  to  India,  and 
called  up  the  picture  of  wild  scenes  and  terrible 
events. 


LITTLE  RACHEL,  23 

"Who  can  they  be  ?"  thought  Jabez  ;  when,  at 
a  word  from  the  lady,  the  waggonette  drew  up,  and 
a  clear,  musical  voice  said — 

"  Do  you  belong  to  Deepdale  ?  " 

Jabez  looked  up,  met  the  lady's  gaze,  and 
touched  his  hat  respectfully. 

"Yes,  my  lady.  I  work  in 't  mill.  I'm  overseer 
to  Mr.  Dene." 

The  lady  stood  up  in  the  carriage,  shading  her 
eyes,  and  gazing  towards  the  little  town ;  then, 
glancing  down  again,  she  continued — 

"I  am  going  there — to  the  Vicarage.  Can  you 
direct  me  to  it  ?  " 

"  Nay,  you  can't  miss  it,"  replied  Jabez. 
"Follow  t'  road,  and  keep  straight  on  past  t' 
church,  and  you'll  see  t'  house  before  ye."  He 
added  quickly,  before  she  could  sign  to  the  driver 
to  go  on,  "  Maybe  you  come  from  India  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  lady,  with  some  surprise. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  the  overseer,  glancing  at 
the  Indian  nurse.  "Maybe,  too,  my  lady,  you 
knew  t'  young  captain.  Master  Dene's  son?" 

"  I  knew  him  well,"  replied  the  lady.  "  He  was 
an  officer  in  my  husband's  regiment,  and  he  fell 
at  Lucknow  during  the  siege.  He  died  side  by 
side  with  my  husband.  Colonel  Hollis,  of  the  Forty- 
First." 

"And  his  wife,  my  lady — his  poor  wife — be  it 
true,  as  we  ha'  heard,  that  she  be  dead  too  ?  " 

Mrs.  Hollis  looked  in  surprise  at  the  rough  fellow 
in  his  working  clothes,  who,  as  he  spoke,  stretched 


24  RACHEL  DENE. 

out  his  bands  in  agitation,  and  trembled  witb 
sympatby. 

"  It  is  quite  true,"  sbe  answered  sadly.  "  That 
is  wby  I  bave  come  bere.  I  am  bringing  bome  ber 
cbild." 

As  sbe  glanced  at  tbe  infant  in  tbe  ayab's  arms, 
Jabez  climbed  up  on  tbe  step  bebind  tbe  vebicle, 
and  followed  tbe  direction  of  ber  eyes.  Tbe 
cbild,  a  beautiful  infant  of  only  a  few  montbs 
old,  was  sleeping  peacefully  in  its  nurse's  lap. 

"  Did  you  know  Captain  Dene  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Hollis,  gently. 

"  Ay,  my  lady,  I  knew  bim  well ;  and  bis  wife, 
too,  poor  lass,  poor  lass!  And  tbis  be  tbeir  bairn? 
Wonderful — wonderful  !  Brougbt  bome  like  t' 
baby  boy,  tbe  cbild  o'  our  poor  Jael." 

Tbe  lady  noticed  witb  surprise  tbat  bis  eyes, 
full  of  tears,  looked  witb  infinite  regret  and  tender- 
ness upon  tbe  infant,  wbile  bis  lips  murmured 
Bometbing  tbat  sounded  like  a  blessing.  Tbe 
next  moment  be  leapt  down,  and  stood  barebeaded 
in  tbe  road,  watcbing  tbe  waggonette  as  it  drove 
on.  Tbe  lady  looked  back  and  nodded.  Jabez 
waved  bis  band.  Tbe  little  boy,  leaning  over 
tbe  back  of  tbe  carriage,  watcbed  bim  and 
laugbed. 

"  Wonderful !   wonderful !  "  muttered  tbe  over-   * 
seer  to  bimself,  as   be   followed  tbem   down  tbe 
road.     "  Two  bairns  come  bome  out  o'  t'  cruel 
war — Captain's   little   daughter,  and   Jael's   little 
Jack.    Minds  me  o'  t'  flowers  new-blowing  on  t' 


LITTLE  RACHEL.  2$ 

poor  lass's  grave  i'  the  cliurcbyard !  Well,  ^vcll, 
out  o'  death  comes  life,  as  parson  says." 

Before  Jabez  Pryke  could  carry  his  news  home 
to  the  Heywoods,  Mrs.  Hollis  had  reached  the 
Vicarage  and  had  told  her  story  to  Mr.  Lyster. 
She  was  the  widow,  as  the  reader  has  already 
heard,  of  Colonel  Hollis,  the  commanding  officer 
of  the  fighting  Forty-First.  The  boy  who  accom- 
panied her  was  her  only  son.  The  baby  girl, 
already  christened  Eachel,  was  the  child  of  Captain 
Jacob  Dene,  and  Lucy  Lyster  his  wife,  brought 
back  to  England  in  accordance  with  a  sacred 
pledge  given  to  the  poor  mother  before  she  died. 
That  fragile  snowdrop  was  all  that  remained  to 
attest  that  the  young  soldier  and  his  wife  had  ever 
been. 

While  the  vicar,  divided  between  joy  and  sorrow, 
held  his  little  grandchild  in  his  arms,  Jabez  Pryke, 
half  a  mile  away,  was  bending  over  little  Jack,  and 
Jasper  and  Joan  Heywood  looked  on  in  wonder 
and  delight.  Before  the  life  that  comes,  the  life 
that  is  buried  becomes  forgotten,  and  all  they  saw 
now  was  the  light  in  the  eyes  of  the  boy  poor  Jael 
had  left  behind. 

*'  Mother,  look  !  "  cried  Jabez,  holding  out  his 
forefinger  to  the  crowing  boy.  **  Isna  t'  bairn  t' 
living  image  o'  poor  Jael  ?  God  bless  him  and  gie 
him  good  luck  for  her  sake  !  " 

"  Amen  to  that,  Jabez,"  responded  Joan.  "  And 
t'  little  one  you  saw  up  yonder — poor  Miss  Lucy's 
lass — does  she  favour  her  mother,  too  ?  " 


26  RACHEL  DENE. 

"  Nay,  mother,  I  knew  not.  She  were  just  like 
a  white  snowdrop  blooming  on  t'  black  wench's 
heart.  I  had  naut  but  a  glimpse,  but  she  seemed 
as  pretty  as  God  makes  little  childer." 

There  was  a  long  pause ;  then  Joan  said,  with 
a  look  of  tender  inspiration,  "Little  lass  and  little 
lad!  Suppose  t'  Lord,  by-and-by,  should  bring 
they  two  together  !  " 

Jasper  Heywood,  seated  in  his  armchair,  and 
lighting  his  pipe,  looked  up  and  grinned. 

"There  thou  art,  mother!  At  it  again,  like  all 
t'  women !  They'd  ha'  marrying  and  wedding 
among  bairns  i'  the  cradle,  if  they  had  their  foolish 
way,  wouldn't  they,  Jabez  ?  Why,  woman  alive, 
little  lass,  yonder,  will  grow  up  a  proud  lady, 
while  little  Jack  here  will  ha'  to  work  wi'  his  hands 
like  you  and  me." 

Jabez  answered,  still  looking  gently  at  the  child, 
*  Maybo,  maybe !  "     But,  God   willing,  and   you 
two  helping,  t'  little  man  shall  ha'  learning,  and 
maybe  he'll  grow  up  a  gentleman,  after  all." 

Before  many  hours  had  passed  the  news  had 
spread  all  over  the  place,  and  formed  the  only 
theme  of  that  Saturday  half-holiday.  It  was 
discussed  at  every  fireside,  and  many  another 
single  woman,  as  if  to  illustrate  Jasper  Heywood's 
estimate  of  the  sex,  uttered  some  such  prophesy, 
or  forethought,  as  that  expressed  by  Joan. 

Meantime,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  word 
of  Mrs.  Hollis's  arrival  had  been  passed  from  the 
Yicarage  up  to  the  Oaks.     First  to  hear  it,  in  her 

\ 
I' 


LITTLE  RACHEL.  27 

husband's  absence,  was  Susannah  Dene.  Her 
carriage  was  at  the  door,  and  away  she  drove  at 
once  till  she  reached  the  Vicarage ;  then,  leaving 
her  years  behind  her,  she  sprang  out,  and  rushing 
into  the  house,  descended  with  tears  and  cries, 
and  inarticulate  expressions  of  delight,  upon  her 
grandchild. 

She  introduced  herself,  sans  ceremonie,  to  Mrs. 
Hollis — made  love  to  little  Ealph,  and  friends  even 
with  the  aj^ah. 

Then  nothing  would  do  but  the  vicar,  Mrs. 
Hollis,  the  boy,  the  ayah,  and  the  baby  must  come 
at  once  to  the  Oaks,  where  Jacob  Dene  was  now 
to  be  found. 

At  sight  of  his  son's  child  the  stern  man  burst 
into  tears.  When  at  length  an  eventful  evening 
came  to  an  end,  the  vicar  could  not  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  deprive  Mrs.  Dene  of  the  child,  who  took 
up  her  abode  henceforth  at  the  Oaks,  to  become 
the  heiress  of  the  Denes. 

Although  the  scion  of  a  noble  house,  Mrs.  HolKs 
was  a  lonely  woman,  for  her  brother-in-law,  the 
Earl  of  Beauchamp,  had  been  very  much  opposed 
to  her  marriage  with  his  brother  Ealph.  She, 
therefore,  wisely  accepted  an  offer  to  keep  house 
thenceforth  for  the  vicar,  which  was  a  sensible 
arrangement  for  everybody  concerned,  inasmuch 
as  she  contributed  three  hundred  pounds  a  year 
towards  Mr.  Lyster's  slender  income,  and  found  a 
home  for  herself  and  her  fatherless  boy. 

The  weft  of  life  is  ever  woven  with  the  warp  of 


28  RACHEL  DENE. 

sorrow;  the  one  serves  to  accentuate  the  other 
with  a  keener  pleasure,  or  a  deeper  pain.  Thence 
there  was  joy  in  Deepdale  that  the  poor  siege- 
children  lived,  and  sorrow  that  their  parents  had 
died ;  but  the  joy  abided,  and  the  sorrow  in  time 
was  forgotten  by  all,  save  the  one  faithful  heart 
which  bewailed  now,  as  it  would  bewail  for  ever, 
the  lost  love  of  his  youth. 

But,  although  he  sorrowed,  Jabez,  the  overseer, 
did  not  sorrow  without  hope.  He  had  now  some- 
thing to  live  for — Jack's  child  henceforth  the  child 
of  his  adoption. 

As  for  the  Denes  and  the  vicar,  their  dead 
children  lived  again  in  the  little  Eachel. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

TWO   LADS   AND   A  LASS. 

Do  you  know  Deepdale  ?  Do  you  know  the 
splendid  Yorkshire  valley,  surrounded  on  every 
side  by  green  or  heathery  hills,  watered  by  a  rapid 
river,  and  bearing  in  its  bosom  the  cleanest  and 
happiest  of  little  manufacturing  towns?  If  you 
have  ever  passed  that  way,  down  the  open  moor- 
land, into  the  clean,  carefully-kept  streets,  past 
the  great  many-windowed,  many-chimneyed  mills, 
among  the  cottages  and  well-tended  gardens,  from 
the  church  to  the  Vicarage,  from  the  Vicarage  to 


TIVO  LADS  AND  A   LASS.  a^ 

the  fine  home  of  the  mills'  master,  you  will  under- 
staDd  how  Eachel  Dene,  as  she  grew  up,  learned 
to  love  the  place  and  its  people,  and  to  think  there 
was  no  such  pleasant  home  in  all  the  world. 

It  was  the  boast  of  Jacob  Dene  that  his  con- 
nection with  the  place  and  people  was  quite 
patriarchal.  He  had  made  it,  and  kept  it,  what 
it  was,  a  model  for  the  world.  The  thriftless,  the 
idle,  the  vicious,  and  the  depraved  drifted  away 
from  Deepdale  like  scum  from  the  lips  of  a  summer 
sea;  they  were  out  of  place  there,  and  found  no 
congenial  associations.  Industry,  cleanliness,  and 
sobriety  were  the  order  of  the  day.  The  old 
Quaker  saw  to  it  all.  He  would  have  no  vagabonds 
among  his  people.  He  was  kind  and  liberal  to 
those  who  set  a  good  example,  but  stern  to  the 
undeserving. 

Through  the  centre  of  this  Arcadian  valley,  up 
through  the  waving  moorland,  Eachel  Dene  rode 
one  summer  day,  in  company  with  Ralph  Hollis — 
she  upon  a  high-mettled  and  slender  little  cob,  ho 
upon  an  almost  thoroughbred  mare.  They  had 
been  cantering  and  trotting  along  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  full  of  high  spirits,  health,  and  youth ;  for 
Eachel  was  now  nineteen,  and  Ealph  only  a  few 
years  older. 

They  were  following  a  bridle-path  along  the 
river-side,  and  walking  their  horses,  whilst  they 
kept  up  an  animated  conversation. 

"How  pretty  it  looks!"  cried  the  girl,  gazing 
from  her  saddle  on  the  sunny  scene  around  her. 


30  RACHEL  DENE. 

"I  think  there  is  no  place  in  the  world  half  so 
beautiful." 

"A  pity,  is  it  not,"  returned  Ealph,  "that  it  is 
disfigured  by  the  smoke  and  dirt  of  the  dingy  mills  ? 
I  hate  manufactures  and  manufacturing  places." 

"Nay,  there  thou  art  wrong,"  said  Eachel,  in 
the  quaint  Quaker  phraseology  she  had  learnt  from 
her  grandfather,  and  which  so  well  became  her 
pretty  lips.  "  I  love  the  mills  and  the  town  best 
of  all.  Think  how  many  mouths  the  mills  feed, 
how  many  happy  homes  they  make  !  They're  like 
a  kind,  hard-working  mother  to  us  all !  " 

The  young  man  laughed  somewhat  con- 
temptuously. 

"I  don't  understand  that  kind  of  sentiment. 
The  place,  as  such  places  go,  is  well  enough,  no 
doubt ;  but  I  confess  I  love  more  gaiety  and  more 
life.  Deepdale  is  so  dismal  and  so  dull.  Even 
on  Sundays  the  people  look  begrimed  as  troglodytes 
living  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  the  women 
work  so  hard  it  makes  them  ill-favoured." 

Eachel  laughed  and  shook  her  head. 

"There  we  diifer  again,"  she  answered.  "I 
often  think — 'tis  foolish,  but  very  true — that  if  I 
hadn't  been  my  father's  daughter,  I  would  have 
loved  to  toil  hard,  and  be  one  of  the  peoi^le." 

"A  worker  in  the  mills  !  Fancy  you  dressed  in 
homespun  like  a  mill-girl!  Fancy  you  being 
courted  like  a  mill-girl  by  some  fellow  with  coarse 
bands  and  coarser  speech  !  " 

Eachel  flushed,  and  cried,  "I  was  not  talking 


TJVO  LADS  AND   A   LASS.  31 

of  courtship,  sir !  But  I  would  not  care  for  a 
man's  bands  if  his  heart  were  clean !  " 

As  she  spoke  she  started,  and  flushed  a  deeper 
red.  Approaching  her  along  the  river-side  was  a 
figure  she  knew  well,  that  of  a  lad  of  about  her 
own  age,  clad  in  a  rough  working  suit,  and  carr}'- 
ing  a  fishing-rod  and  a  small  creel. 

**  'Tis  Jack  Heywood  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  So  it  is,"  answered  Ealph,  with  the  slightest 
shade  of  a  frown.  "  Shirking  his  work,  and 
angling — profitable  occupation  !  " 

Eachel  beckoned,  and  Jack  came  up  smiling. 
He  was  a  fresh,  hearty-looking  lad,  strong  and 
erect,  with  a  look  of  self-reliance.  He  lifted  his 
hat  to  the  riders,  and  stood  looking  eagerly  at 
Eachel. 

"  I  have  got  an  afternoon's  holiday,"  he  said, 
**  and  am  trying  my  luck  with  the  fly ;  but  the  sun 
is  too  bright  for  angling." 

**  Are  you  all  well  at  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Rachel." 

*'  I  must  come  over  soon,  and  see  thy  grand- 
mother. Thou  knowest.  Jack,  thou  and  I  ar^j 
almost  like  brother  and  sister — the  two  siege- 
bairns,  as  the  people  call  us,  for  the  same  trouble 
left  us  both  in  the  world  alone." 

"  Shall  we  get  on  ? "  said  Ealph,  impatiently. 
*'  Isly  mare  is  restless." 

Eachel  nodded,  and,  with  a  light  look  and  nod  at 
Jack,  rode  on  with  her  companion.  Scarcely  had 
they  ridden  out  of  earshot  when  Ealph,  bending 


32  RACHEL  DENE. 

towards  her,  said,  with  a  short  laugh,  "There's 
one  of  your  hard-handed  ones.  Do  you  not  thank 
your  good  fortune  that  you  are  so  different  ?  " 

*'  Nay,  indeed,"  answered  Eachel,  with  a  look  of 
surprise.  "  My  grandfather  tells  me  that  Jack  is 
the  cleverest  boy  in  Deepdale  !  " 

"Jack!     That's  familiar." 

*'  And  why  not  ?  I  almost  feel  as  if  he  were  my 
brother.  We  are  both  motherless  and  fatherless, 
and  our  lots  are  so  much  alike." 

"  I  hope  they  are  very  different." 

'*  And  we  were  friends  when  children.  Thou, 
too,  wast  his  friend.  Thou  hast  a  right  to  like 
him." 

*'  So  I  do,  in  his  way  ;  but  his  way  is  not  mine, 
Eachel.  Look  at  the  mare,  how  she  pricks  her 
ears ;  she  thinks  I  am  speaking  of  her.  Come, 
shall  we  cross  the  moor,  and  gallop  ?  " 

Eachel  nodded,  and  leaving  the  roadside,  they 
came  to  a  stretch  of  grass  and  heather,  and 
hastened  along  side  by  side. 

The  years  had  come  and  gone,  until  some  nine- 
teen had  passed  away.  Eachel  had  entwined 
herself  round  the  hearts  of  the  mill-owner  and  his 
wife  until  she  had  become  the  light  and  life  of 
their  desolate  home.  Nor  was  she  less  dear  to  the 
old  vicar — for  she  reminded  him  of  the  wife  and 
of  the  daughter  he  had  lost.  The  same  doves' 
eyes,  the  same  sunny  hair,  the  same  fairy-like 
elastic  figure,  the  same  laugh,  the  very  voice — 
came  back  again. 


T^VO  LADS  AND   A    LASS.  33 

Ealpli  HoUis  had  grown  into  a  strikingly  hand- 
some young  man,  of  bright  but  unstable  parts,  and 
petulant  temper.  He  was  an  apt  pupil  when  the 
mood  took  him — but  he  was  wayward  and  fractious 
— and  somewhat  trying  to  his  over-indulgent  tutor 
and  his  doting  mother.  This  lad  might  be  led,  but 
never  driven.  Of  all  his  circle  of  acquaintances, 
the  one  who  could  lead  him  the  easiest  was  Eaehel 
Dene,  who  reigned  over  him,  even  as  she  reigned 
at  the  Oaks,  with  autocratic,  but  benevolent  sway. 

As  the  years  grew  with  her  growth — the  two 
old  men — her  father's  father  and  the  father  of  her 
mother — loved  the  girl  more  and  more — while  in 
her  young  and  innocent  delight,  the  poor  mother's 
youth  lived  again.  At  first,  indeed,  they  had 
loved  the  child  because  she  reminded  them  of  the 
loved  and  lost.  As  the  years  progressed,  they 
loved  her  for  herself — not  because  she  was  by  any 
means  a  paragon,  but  simply  because  she  was  true, 
and  simple,  and  honest,  and  because  she  loved 
them  deeply  in  return. 

She  was  not  a  young  person  of  advanced  culture 
or  remarkable  beauty.  Her  accomplishments  were 
of  quite  an  ordinary  character ;  but,  take  her  all 
in  all,  she  was  adorable,  as  only  a  pretty  Quakeress 
can  be.  Her  fiigure  was  slender,  straight,  and 
well  balanced,  giving  indications  that  at  its 
maturity  it  would  leave  little  to  be  desired  in  the 
way  of  symmetry.  Her  complexion  was  pale,  but 
transparent  as  alabaster ;  and  when  her  heart 
or  emotions  were  touched,  her  cheeks  flushed  a 

D 


34  RACHEL  DENE. 

pearl-like  pink,  wliicli  quickened  into  loveliness. 
Her  head  was  crowned  with  a  wreath  of  hair  which 
Bhimmered  from  lightest  brown  into  ripest  gold; 
square  brow,  dark  eyebrows,  and  dark  lashes ; 
eyes  grey ;  short,  straight  nose,  with  the  slightest 
suspicion  of  a  tip-tilt  at  the  end ;  ripe  rosy  lips, 
and  a  firm  set  chin,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that, 
should  the  emergency  arise,  she  miglit  have  a  will 
of  her  own. 

The  emergency  had  not  arisen  as  yet. 

She  it  was  who  wrote  the  paternal  grandpa's 
letters — wrote  them,  too,  in  a  good,  round,  read- 
able hand,  none  of  your  feeble  Italian  scrawls. 
She  it  was  who  took  grandma's  tea  up  every 
morning,  and  relieved  her  of  the  cares  of  house- 
keeping ;  who  visited  the  sick,  and  relieved  the 
needy  of  the  valley ;  assisted  the  maternal  grandpa 
at  Sunday  school  and  Dorcas  Society;  and  who, 
in  point  of  fact,  played  Lady  Bountiful  Junior  in 
Deepdale. 

Not  that  her  life  was  monopolized  by  these  duties, 
for  she  had  a  notion  that  life  was  pleasant,  and 
that  the  world  was  beautiful,  and  she  enjoyed  the 
spring-time  of  both.  She  it  was  who  induced  the 
old  people  to  open  their  doors,  and  their  hearts, 
to  their  friends  ;  and  it  was  astonishing  how  much 
pleasanter  the  Denes  found  it  than  shutting  them- 
selves up  in  their  former  insular  exclusiveness. 

As  for  Ealph  Hollis,  the  master  of  the  mills  felt 
bound  to  do  something  for  the  lad,  if  only  because 
his  mother  had  brought,  almost  out  of  the  jaws  of 


nVO  LADS  AND  A   LASS.  35 

death,  the  angel  who  made  Jacob's  home  happy. 
Mrs.  HolHs  wanted  to  send  the  boy  for  a  term  or 
two  to  Oxford,  but  considerations  of  expense  inter- 
vened. Jacob  had  had  enough  of  Oxford  ;  he  had 
sent  his  own  boy  there,  with  the  result  already 
described.  No;  he  would  put  Ealph  into  the 
counting-house.      ' 

"  The  rest,"  he  said,  *'  would  depend  on  himself." 

"  The  rest  "  is  a  vague  phrase,  which  might 
mean  anything  or  nothing.  It  might,  however, 
mean  a  partnership  in  the  firm.  Perchance — who 
knew  ? — a  marriage  with  the  heiress  of  Deepdale  ! 

In  the  end,  the  mother  concluded  to  let  Ealph 
go  to  the  counting-house,  not,  it  is  feared,  to  that 
young  gentleman's  delight,  nor  very  much,  in  the 
long  run,  to  Jacob  Dene's  satisfaction. 

Jack  Heywood  was  a  horse  of  another  colour, 
both  figuratively  and  literally.  Ealph  was  dark, 
and  somewhat  saturnine ;  Jack  was  fair  and  frank, 
with  sunny  hair  and  laughing  eyes,  eyes  of  English 
blue.  Ealph  was  slender,  elegant,  and  taU ;  Jack 
was  equally  tall,  but  he  was  stalwart,  and,  for  his 
age,  was  the  best  swimmer,  oarsman,  rider,  leaper, 
runner,  cricket-player,  boxer,  and  wrestler  in  the 
valley  of  Deepdale  or  the  West  Eiding.  Ealph 
was  indolent ;  Jack  was  industrious.  Ealph  was  a 
great  smoker,  and  fond,  already  too  fond,  of  his 
wine ;  Jack  detested  the  smell  of  tobacco,  and  did 
not  care  for  wine.  Ealph,  like  Eob  Eoy,  despised 
"  weavers,  and  spinners,  and  a'  sic  mechanical 
persons."     Jack  was  a  born  inventor,  and  proud 


36  RACHEL   DENE. 

of  his  craft.  Ealph  disliked  books ;  Jack  liked 
them.  He  had  learnt  all  that  Jabez  could  teach 
him  of  mechanics,  and  had  now  left  his  master 
behind.  Not  that  he  was  a  book-worm — not  the 
least  little  bit. 

Having  enumerated  their  points  of  divergence, 
it  is  satisfactory  to  note  one  or  two  points  on 
which  these  lads  agreed.  They  both  had  a  passion 
for  horses — all  Yorkshiremen  have.  Ealph  had  a 
horse  of  his  own,  or,  rather,  a  mare,  which  he 
called  after  Eachel;  and  a  beauty  she  was,  as 
indeed  she  ought  to  be,  considering  the  price  she 
cost  Mrs.  Hollis.  Jack  had  picked  up  a  rough- 
looking  cob  at  Wakefield  horse  fair  for  five  or  six 
pounds,  and  had  groomed  him  to  such  perfection, 
that  Jabez,  as  he  called  him,  ran  Eachel  very  hard 
whenever  he  got  the  chance.  Finally,  both  lads 
were  unanimous  in  their  admiration  for  Eachel 
Dene. 

Mrs.  Hollis  had  but  one  object  in  life — to  seo 
her  son  happy,  beloved,  admired.  To  her,  he  was 
everything.  In  him  her  dead  husband,  the  lover 
of  her  youth,  lived  again.  A  mother's  love  blinded 
her  to  his  faults,  and,  as  we  have  hinted,  they 
were  many. 

To  be  just  to  the  lad,  he  was  devoted  to  her 
beyond  all  things,  but  he  was  wrong-headed  and 
strong-headed.  Moreover,  he  was  a  little  im- 
patient at  his  lot  in  life.  He  thought  it  hard  that 
he,  the  heir-apparent  to  an  earldom — for  his  uncle 
Algernon;  though  on  the  shady  side  of  sixty,  was 


TIVO  LADS  AND  A   LASS.  37 

still  a  bachelor — should  be  condemned  to  a  seat  in 
the  counting-house,  instead  of  one  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  The  thought  of  Eachel,  however,  curbed 
his  impatience,  and  he  did  his  best  to  fulfil  his 
duties,  though  it  must  be  admitted  that  bad  was 
his  best. 

There  was  another  mother  who  also  kept  watch 
and  ward  over  her  boy.  I  have  said  "  another 
mother  "  advisedly,  for  as  Jack  approached  man- 
hood Joan  saw  in  him  the  image  of  her  dead  son  ; 
and  as  he  grew  day  by  day  more  like  her  first-born, 
he  found  in  her  all  a  mother's  care,  she  in  him  a 
son's  devotion. 

He  had  his  way  in  everything,  however.  He 
was  just  as  honest,  tender,  and  true,  and  just  as 
petulant  and  as  pugnacious  as  his  father  had  been 
before  him.  Jasper  Heywood,  too,  was  as  proud 
of  the  lad  as  he  had  been  of  his  own  son  Jack.  As 
for  Jabez,  we  have  already  referred  to  the  pure, 
unselfish  devotion  of  this  single-minded,  simj^le 
fellow  for  his  dead  sweetheart's  son. 

Meanwhile,  while  Ealph  smoked,  drank,  and 
idled.  Jack  worked  and  learnt.  At  fourteen  he  was 
put  on  to  assist  his  grandfather  in  looking  after 
the  machinery  at  the  mills ;  for  Jasper  was  a 
practical  engineer,  and  foreman  in  his  depart- 
ment. 

Now,  Jack  had  a  positive  genius  for  mechanics 
of  every  description.  In  twelve  months'  time  there 
was  not  a  bolt,  a  bar,  a  pin,  a  spring,  a  strap,  that 
he  had  not  mastered  the  mystery  of ;  while  as  for 


38  RACHEL  DENE. 

steam-power,  hydraulics,  electricity,  and  cliemistry, 
he  had  them  at  his  fingers'  ends. 

From  childhood  he  had  been  a  visitor  at  the 
great  house.  He  and  Eachel  and  Ealph  had 
played  together  as  if  they  had  been  brothers  and 
sister — that  is  to  say,  up  to  a  certain  period.  At 
last  "  the  pale  spectrum  of  the  salt  "  began  to  cast 
a  shadow  between  them.  Ealph  was  a  born  gentle- 
man, the  son  of  a  distinguished  officer  ;  Eachel  was 
born  a  lady,  daughter  of  a  man  of  fortune;  she 
was,  moreover,  an  heiress.  Jack  was  the  son  of 
a  private  soldier ;  moreover,  he  was  a  mechanic,  a 
man  doomed  to  live  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  and 
the  work  of  his  hands.  So,  for  that  matter,  he 
reflected  sometimes,  was  Eichard  Arkwright,  and 
so  was  Eobert  Stephenson. 

Jabez  was  wont  to  say,  "Dreams,  my  lad — 
idle  dreams." 

"  Let  me  dream  while  I  may,  Jabez,"  the  lad 
replied.  '*  Perhaps  I  shall  wake  "^ome  day  and 
find  myself  famous,  and  then  you'll  be  proud  of 
your  pupil." 

"  I  shall  always  be  proud  of  him.  Jack,  and 
when  you  are  a  great  man  you'll  still  find  a  corner 
in  your  heart  for  the  old  folk  and  Jabez  ?  " 

"Always,  Jabez,"  cried  the  boy,  with  his 
mother's  eyes. 

Left  alone  on  the  roadside,  young  Heywood 
Btood  watching  the  form  of  Eachel  until  it  disap- 
peared.    Then  he  threw  down  his  fishing-rod  and 


A    GAME  AT  LAWN-TENNIS.  39 

sat  down  in  a  brown  study,  looking  at  the  stream. 
No  more  fishing  for  liim  that  day.  He  was  him- 
self in  too  deep  water. 

Though  only  a  lad  of  nineteen,  he  looked  some 
years  older,  and  he  had  all  the  manners  and 
appearance  of  a  man. 

"  They  may  come  to  favour  each  other  some 
day,"  Joan  had  said  -when  he  was  an  infant, 
speaking  of  himself  and  little  Kachel ;  and  part, 
at  least,  of  the  prediction  had  come  to  pass.  Ho 
was  as  hopelessly  in  love  as  ever  boy  could  be  with 
Eachel  Dene. 

"  Brother  and  sister  ?  "  he  muttered,  echoing 
her  words  and  shaking  his  curly  head.  Then  he 
looked  down  at  his  coarse  dress  and  hard,  toil- 
worn  hands,  and  felt  quite  hopeless  and  despairing. 
He  might  have  been  comforted  a  little  had  he 
known  how  eagerly  Eachel,  just  before  they  met, 
had  been  discoursing  to  her  companion,  with 
"coarse  hands  "  for  a  text. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   GAME    AT   LAWN-TENNIS. 

It  was  a  lovely  summer  afternoon,  and  there  was 
a  lawn-tennis  party  at  the  Oaks,  to  which  some 
of  the  young  people  of  the  neighbourhood  had 
been  invited. 

Of  course,  Ealph  Hollis  and  his  mother  were 


40  RACHEL  DENE. 

there,  and  the  vicar  and  his  curate;  then  there 
were  Jack  Vipont,  the  squire's  son,  fresh  from 
Oxford,  and  his  sister  Julia ;  young  Eaggett, 
the  civil  engineer ;  and  Wilkinson,  the  solicitor. 
Besides  these,  Ealph  had  got  invitations  for 
Captain  Fitzherhert,  and  two  or  three  of  the 
officers  of  his  father's  old  regiment,  the  fighting 
Forty-First,  who  happened  to  be  quartered  at 
Barford,  hard  by.  The  young  man  was  great 
friends  with  these  curly  plungers — dined  at  mess 
with  them,  and  afterwards  adjourned  to  the  rooms 
of  some  of  the  younger  blood  to  play  baccarat  or 
poker. 

They  were  having  a  pleasant  time  of  it  that 
afternoon,  when  Jack  Heywood,  accompanied  by 
his  grandfather  and  Jabez  Pryke,  called  by  ap- 
pointment to  show  Jacob  Dene  a  new  invention 
which  was  to  revolutionize  the  manufacture  of 
alpaca. 

The  interview  took  place  in  the  great  man's 
Btudy,  and  Jabez  was  the  first  spokesman. 

"It  be  most  all  Jack's  work.  Jasper  and  I 
helped  him  a  bit,  but  he  worked  the  idea  out  for 
hissen  mostly.  The  lad's  a  born  talent  for  using 
cogs  and  wheels.  Jack,  show  Mr.  Dene  how  the 
machine  works." 

Jack  blushed,  and  did  as  he  was  bid, 

"  Thou  art  a  boy,"  said  the  Quaker.  "  'Tis  but 
a  boy's  work,  after  all." 

"  We  must  all  be  boys  sometime,"  replied  Jabez, 
laughing.     "  Jack  here's  one  in  a  thousand,  master. 


A    GAME  AT  LAWN-TENNIS,  41 

We're  both  born  fools  to  him,  Jasper,  his  grand- 
fey  ther,  and  me !  " 

Jacob  inspected  the  model,  and  hummed  and 
haa'd  as  Jack  put  it  in  motion. 

<'  Very  ingenious  indeed  !  And  what  dost  thou 
calculate   will  be   the  nett  result  of  this   pretty 

toy  ?  " 

"Only  an  economy  of  labour  and  material 
amounting  to  about  cent,  per  cent. — that  is  all !  " 
replied  the  lad,  sturdily. 

"Thou  art  reckoning  thy  chickens,  lad,  before 
they're  hatched,"  replied  the  old  Quaker. 

"  Perhaps  so,  sir  ;  but  I'm  going  to  try  to  hatch 
'em  somewhere  or  other." 

"  Well,  send  the  model  to  my  office  at  the  mills, 
and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  with  it  in  the  course 
of  a  few  months." 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  answered  Jack,  "but  I  can't 
do  that.  It  has  to  go  to  town  to-morrow  to  be 
registered  at  the  Patent  Office,  and  thence  to  the 
Manchester  Exhibition." 

"  Thou  art  a  self-reliant  youth !  "  said  Jacob 
Dene,  astonished. 

"I've  no  one  but  myself  to  rely  on,  sir;  and 
I've  been  taught  to  believe  that  God  helps  those 
who  help  themselves." 

"  That's  true.  Well,  since  thou  art  here,  thou 
hadst  best  come  round  to  the  lawn,  and  see  thy 
old  playfellow,  Piachel.  Thou  knowest  she's  always 
glad  to  see  thee." 

Jack  was  not  so  sure  of  that.     He  knew  that 


42  RACHEL  DENE. 

there  was  a  time  when  Eachel  was  really  glad  to 
see  him,  but  that  time  was  past  and  gone.  Yet, 
after  all,  if  the  invention  were  to  strike  fire  ?  Ah, 
if  it  were  ? 

Jacob  chatted  pleasantly  enough  as  he  led  the 
way  to  the  lawn-tennis  ground.  Jack's  face 
flushed,  as  ripples  of  laughter  and  pleasant  sounds 
broke  upon  his  ear  ;  above  all,  when  he  heard  one 
voice,  the  voice  he  could  tell  out  of  a  thousand. 

The  sight  was  pleasant  enough  to  look  at. 
Twenty  or  thirty  young  people  of  both  sexes  loafed 
about  without  formality,  chatting  or  flirting  as 
the  case  might  be  ;  some  playing  at  tennis  on  the 
lawn,  others  disporting  themselves  amongst  the 
greenery  and  flowers  in  shrubbery  or  summer- 
houses.  The  girls,  in  their  quaint  Kate  Green- 
away  dresses  and  straw  hats,  lightened  up  here 
and  there  with  a  brilliant  bunch  of  ribbons ;  the 
young  men  in  their  flannels  of  vivid  and  varied 
colours,  sashes,  canvas  shoes,  and  straw  hats. 

How  bright,  and  simple,  and  natural,  and 
unaffected  it  all  seemed ;  and  yet,  as  Jack  Heywood 
looked  at  it,  what  a  gulf  intervened  between  him 
and  every  one  else  there  ! 

He  stood  alone  on  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  look- 
ing at  the  play,  while  his  graudsire  and  Jabez 
approached,  with  difiidence,  to  pay  their  respects 
to  Mrs.  Dene,  who  was  in  an  arbour  dispensing 
afternoon  tea. 

Within  a  stone's  throw  of  Jack,  with  their  backs 
turned   to   him,    stood   a   young   couple,   talking 


A    GAME  AT  LAWN-TENNIS.  43 

together.  He  had  no  need  to  see  their  faces  to 
tell  him  who  they  were. 

"Eachel,"  said  the  youth,  "you  are  coming  to 
dine  at  the  Yicarage  to-morrow  ?  " 

"I  suppose  so,"  she  replied  indifferently. 

"  Don't  say  *  suppose.'     You  will  come." 

**  Grandpa  has  promised." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that.  You  know  that  to-morrow 
is  my  birthday  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"I  shall  be  one  and  twenty.  May  I  speak  to 
Mr.  Dene  ?  " 

"■  Of  course  thou  mayst  speak  to  him,"  she 
replied  simply. 

"  Don't  say  *  of  course '  in  that  cold-blooded  way. 
You  know  what  I  want  to  speak  to  him  about." 

"  About  going  into  the  army,  I  suppose  ?  But 
you  must  not !  " 

*'  Confound  the  army  !  I  want  to  speak  to  him 
about  you.  You  won't  understand  me  !  Surely, 
you  must  feel — you  must  know,  that  I  can't  live 
without  you." 

At  this  moment  the  ball  came  whizzing  past 
them,  and  as  Ealph  turned  in  the  effort  to  stop  it, 
he  came  face  to  face  with  Jack  Heywood. 

"  Hallo,  Heywood !  "  he  said,  with  the  slightest 
shade  of  pique  in  his  voice.  "  What  the  deuce 
brings  you  here  ?  " 

"  My  legs,"  replied  Jack,  laughing. 

Rachel,  too,  laughed  at  the  reply,  as  she  shook 
hands  with  the  young  workman. 


44  RACHEL  DENE. 

At  this  moment  the  game  finished. 

"  Wilt  thou  stand  in  with  me  for  the  next 
game  ?  "  inquired  Eachel,  with  a  smile. 

"Nay,"  answered  Jack;  "I  don't  play  tennis. 
If  it  were  cricket,  now " 

"Ah,  if  it  were  !  I've  seen  thee  hold  the  wicket 
against  all  comers," 

"Eachel,  may  I  bring  you  a  cup  of  tea?" 
inquired  Ealph,  nervously. 

"  Nay,  thanks ;  I'm  going  to  take  tea  with  Mr. 
Heywood.  Come  along  "  (Jack,  she  was  going  to 
say,  but  she  thought  better  or  worse  of  it), — "  come 
along,  Mr.  Heywood,"  she  continued,  "and  grand- 
ma will  be  glad  to  see  thee.  And  how  is  the 
wonderful  invention  getting  on  ?  " 

As  they  approached  Mrs.  Dene  and  her  al  fresco 
tea-table,  Ealph  turned  angrily  away  towards  his 
mother,  who  was  dispensing  tea,  and  more  sub- 
stantial refreshments,  at  the  opposite  end  of  the 
lawn. 

Watching  her  opportunity,  she  whispered,  "  Well, 
have  you  made  the  most  of  your  opportunities, 
Ealph?" 

"  I  have  ;  but  she  holds  me  on,  and  keeps  me  o£f, 
until  I  feel  inclined  to  throw  it  up  altogether." 

"Foolish  boy  !  Throw  up  ten  thousand  a-year, 
and  the  prettiest  girl  in  Yorkshire  !  " 

"It's  of  no  use;  I  can't  get  her  to  come  to  the 
point.  Just  as  we  were  coming  to  cues,  up  comes 
that  lout  of  a  Jack  Heywood,  and  she  declares  on 
to  him  immediately,  leaving  me  in  the  lurch." 


A    GAME   AT  LAWN-TENNIS.  45 

"  You  can't  suppose  that  she  has  any  proclivities 
in  that  direction  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  One  would  think  not,  for  she  is 
of  gentle  blood  on  both  sides,  while  he  belongs 
to  the  scum ;  but  women  are  so  confoundedly 
foxy." 

**  Methinks  a  gentleman  might  remember," 
said  the  widow,  severely,  "that  his  mother  is  a 
woman." 

"  Of  course  he  does.  You  don't  suppose  that  he 
thinks  his  mother  is  a  man  ?  " 

*'No;  but  he  sometimes  forgets  that  his  father 
was  a  gentleman,  and  that  he  owes  something  to 
his  father's  name." 

Kalph  laughed,  and  kissed  her. 

"Forgive  me,  you  old  darling;  but  I'm  riled, 
and  when  I'm  riled  I'm  forgetful  even  of  what  I 
owe  to  the  best  of  mothers." 

"Ah,  Ralph,  Ealph,"  she  said,  "you don't  know 
how  I  love  you  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  mother  ;  but  I  suppose  I  inherit  my 
father's  temper  as  well  as  his  name.  So  bear  with 
me,  for  dad's  sake." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  at  one  end 
of  the  lawn,  at  the  other,  Jasper,  Jabez,  and  Jack 
were  being  patronized  by  tho  world  in  general — 
that  is  to  say,  by  everybody  but  the  Denes. 

The  three  men  were  in  their  Sunday  go-to- 
meeting  get-up,  and  in  their  dark  rustic  clothes 
and  stove-pipe  hats  looked  singularly  out  of  place 
amongst  these  gay  young  people,  in  their  airy  and 


46  RACHEL  DENE. 

graceful  costumes.  To  be  sure,  Mrs.  Dene  put 
them  a  bit  at  their  ease.  To  her,  Jack  was  still 
Jack,  Jabez  was  Jabez,  and  Jasper,  Jasper. 

A  muster  of  young  men  and  women  declared 
on  to  Kachel.  She  was  obliged  to  be  civil  to 
everybody.  So  once  more  poor  Jack  found  himself 
alone,  chewing  the  cud  of  pleasant  memories — 
memories  which  served  to  deepen  the  bitterness  of 
his  present  loneliness.  He  recalled  the  time  when, 
as  children,  they  went  out  bird's-nesting ;  the  time, 
too,  when  Burnside  Beck  was  swollen,  and  the 
plank  bridge  broken  down.  Had  he  not  carried 
her  on  his  back,  breast-high,  through  the  water  ? 
Had  they  not  rolled  and  romped  in  the  new-mown 
hay  when  bairns  ?  And  once,  while  still  children, 
and  beyond  the  eyes  of  the  prudish  Jacob,  had  she 
not  called  him  out  at  kiss-in-the-ring  ?  That 
virgin  kiss  was  still  burning  on  his  lips,  while  she 
had  become  a  great  lady,  and  he  was  only  a  poor 
operative. 

Ralph,  too,  who  used  to  be  a  bright,  friendly 
boy,  was  changed.  Yet  how  Jack  envied  him ! 
Lost  in  a  brown  study,  Jack  found  himself 
brought,  by  sheer  accident,  in  contact  with  Mrs. 
Hollis. 

Smiling  sweetly  upon  him,  she  opened  fire. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Hey  wood,  it  is  an  age  since  I  have 
geen  you  !     "What  brings  you  here  to-day  ?  " 

"I  came  to  show  my  model  to  the  master." 

"  You've  seen  my  son,  I  suppose  ?  " 

*'Yes." 


A    GAME  AT  LAIVN-TENXIS.  47 

**  Do  you  know  that  to-morrow  is  his  birth- 
day?" 

"I've  heard  so." 

"  We  have  a  dinner-party  at  the  Vicarage  in 
honour  of  the  occasion — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dene,  and 
Ealph's  intended  bride." 

"His  intended  bride?"  echoed  Jack.  "And 
who  is  that,  pray  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Nay,  indeed." 

"  I  thought  everybody  knew  that  my  Ealph  was 
going  to  marry  Miss  Dene." 

The  lad  shrank  as  if  from  a  blow. 

"Yes,  it  is  so,"  answered  Mrs.  Hollis.  "I  wish 
you'd  come  in  to-morrow  night  after  dinner  to  my 
room,  and  drink  to  Ealph's  health." 

Jack  was  silent ;  his  lips  felt  dry  as  dust. 

"Eemember,  too,  if  my  son  can  help  you  in 
any  way — if  he  can  advance  your  prospects  in 
life " 

She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  Jack  was 
gone.     He  was  seen  no  more  that  night. 

At  midnight  it  commenced  to  rain,  and  kept 
raining  until  daybreak.  The  sun  was  striving  to 
emerge  from  the  clouds  when  Jack  turned  up  at  the 
cottage,  pale  and  wan  as  a  ghost. 

Joan  Heywood  had  been  up  all  night  awaiting 
him. 

"  What's  the  matter,  hinney  ? "  she  tenderly 
inquired. 

"  Nothing,  grannie." 


48  RACHEL   DENE. 

"Eh,  lad,  you  may  tell  that  to  the  men,  who, 
although  they  know  thou'st  gotten  a  hard  head, 
never  guess  thou'st  gotten  a  soft  heart.  It's 
summat  about  her,  for  sure — I  know  it  is.  Eest 
thy  head  here,  lad — here,  where  it  has  rested  when 
thou  wert  nobbut  but  a  bonnie  wee  bit  bairnie. 
That's  reet.     Now,  lad,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  grannie,  she's  going  to  wed  Ealph  Hollis  !  " 

"  Who  told  thee  so  ?  " 

"  His  mother." 

"  Dunna  believe  her.  T'  lass  knows  t'  difference 
'twixt  a  man  and  a  mannikin." 

"Oh,  grannie,  grannie,"  cried  the  lad,  "you 
don't  know  how  I  love  her  !  " 

And  he  fell  into  a  passion  of  tears. 

"  That's  reet,  lad— that's  reet.  It'll  tak'  f  sore- 
ness  out  of  thy  heart.  Look — look  yonder  !  Dost 
see  t'  rainbow  stealing  out  o'  t'  clouds,  while  t' 
mists  of  t'  neet  are  meltin'  into  mornin'  ?  That's 
a  good  sign— a  grand  sign  for  thee,  lad.  And  just 
listen  to  t'  birds;  they  are  singin'  a  weddin'  march. 
Tak'  heart,  lad — tak'  heart." 

*'  I  will,  grannie — I  will." 

And  he  did  take  heart,  as  we  shall  see. 


(      49      ) 
CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    GKEAT   INVENTION. 

Jack  Heywood  might  have  spared  his  tears ;  his 
alarm  was  altogether  premature.  Jacob  Dene 
held  the  opinion  that  all  men  are  equal,  that  wars 
are  detestable,  and  that  money  is  the  merest 
dross.  This  was  all  very  well  in  theory ;  but, 
although  our  good  Jacob  called  himself  a  Quaker, 
and  "  thee'd  "  and  "  thou'd  "  his  friends,  and  was, 
for  that  matter,  of  amiable  and  peace-loving  dis- 
position, yet  he  was  an  aristocrat  at  heart,  and 
one  fully  alive  to  the  value  of  this  world's  goods. 
If  he  ever  contemplated  the  marriage  of  his  grand- 
daughter, he  looked  much  higher  than  Ealph 
Hollis  for  a  suitable  husband. 

"With  the  shrewdness  of  his  class,  moreover,  he 
saw  pretty  deeply  into  the  young  man's  character. 
He  knew  him  to  be  a  bad  man  of  business,  a  light 
thinker,  and  the  companion  of  other  light  thinkers ; 
and  though  he  tolerated  him  for  his  mother's  sake, 
he  entertained  no  very  exalted  hopes  of  his  future. 
He  was  shrewd  enough,  of  course,  to  perceive 
what  the  match-making  mother  had  in  contem- 
plation ;  but  he  simply  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  made  no  sign.  He  had  perfect  confidence  in 
the  good  sense  of  Rachel,  who  was  clearly  not 
heart-struck  yet. 

The  birthday  party  passed  off  without  any  sign 


so 


RACHEL  DENE. 


or  omen.  The  subject  nearest  to  the  heart  of 
Mrs.  Hollis  was  never  broached;  she  also  per- 
ceived that  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe.  As  may 
naturally  be  supposed,  she  didn't  for  a  moment 
contemplate  the  possibility  of  her  darling  son  ever 
having  a  rival  in  Jack  Heywood.  Jack  was  only 
a  common  lad,  an  operative — a  nobody,  in  fact. 

A  year  passed  rapidly  away.  Ealph  Hollis  con- 
tinued to  dance  attendance  upon  Eachel  without 
making  any  visible  progress  in  his  suit.  Jack 
Heywood,  relieved  from  his  first  great  fear,  toiled 
late  and  early  at  mechanics,  and  especially  at  his 
favourite  invention. 

From  week's  end  to  week's  end  old  Joan  kept 
the  lad's  heart  up. 

"  Coorage,  lad,"  she  would  say.  "  '  Faint  heart 
ne'er  won  fine  lady,'  as  the  saying  is,  and  I'll  back 
thee  'gin  any  lad  i'  t'  county." 

A  little  love  goes  a  long  way  in  the  world,  and 
Jack  had  a  great  deal,  for  besides  Joan,  Jasper 
doted  on  his  grandson,  while  Jabez  loved  him  with 
"  a  love  beyond  the  love  of  woman."  For  the  lone 
man,  this  boy  crystallized  in  one  bright  form  the 
lost  love  of  his  youth,  the  friend  of  his  boyhood, 
and  the  girl  whom  he  had  adored.  To  his  mind, 
no  woman  was  too  good  or  good  enough  for  Jack ; 
and  it  was  a  foregone  conclusion  with  Jabez  that 
Eachel  could  never  have  the  heart  to  say  nay  to 
his  boy  when  the  good  time  came. 

The  great  invention  had  been  patented,  and 
exhibited   at    the  Manchester    Exhibition.      One 


THE    GREAT  INVENTION.  51 

moruing,  to  the  dellglit,  though  not  to  the  as- 
tonishment, of  Jack  and  his  friends,  came  the 
award  of  the  Executive  Committee,  enclosing  the 
prize  of  a  silver  medal.  By  the  same  post  came 
a  communication  from  the  great  firm  of  Briggs 
and  Boodlum,  of  Bridge  Vale,  requesting  to  know 
Jack's  terms  for  the  application  of  his  patent  in 
their  extensive  factories. 

He  was  beside  himself  with  delight  when  he 
read  the  letter  to  grandfather  and  granny.  Of 
course,  Joan  gushed,  and  hugged,  and  cooed  over 
him. 

"Let  un  alone,  mother,"  said  Jasper,  the  cynic. 
"  I  can't  aboar  to  see  t'  lad  molly  coddled  i'  that 
way." 

"  Thee  never  was  a  mother,  Jasper." 

"No,  nor  a  grandmother,  neither.  Now  what 
1  say  is  this.  Of  course  t'  old  gaffer  has  a 
reet  to  t'  refusal  of  Jack's  invention;  but  if  he 
doan't  come  to  time,  why  then  close  at  once, 
my  lad,  wi'  Briggs  and  Boodlum.  What  dost  say, 
Jack  ?  " 

"  Well,  grandad,"  answered  the  lad,  "I'd  rather 
hear  what  Jabez  has  to  say." 

And  away  ran  the  lad  as  hard  as  he  could  go  to 
the  mills,  and  brought  back  Jabez  with  him,  who 
delivered  himself  thus  oracularly. 

"  Why,  for  sure,  I'd  rather  the  honour  and  the 
glory  0'  the  thing  should  be  wi'  our  own  hoel  York- 
shire than  any  other  ;  so  suppose  we  go  and  have 
a  talk  wi'  Mr.  Dene.     But  thou  must  muzzle  thy 


52  RACHEL   DENE. 

mouth,  Jasper,  for  tbe  old  man's  apt  to  cut  up 
rough  if  you  scratch  him  the  wrong  way." 

So  it  was  resolved,  there  and  then,  that  they 
should  beard  the  Quaker  lion  in  his  den. 

They  got  to  the  Oaks  just  after  breakfast. 
When  they  were  shown  into  the  library,  the 
"gaffer"  was  in  the  midst  of  the  Times  City 
article. 

Jabez  was  right — Jacob  Dene  was  a  difficult 
person  to  deal  with.  He  was  a  great  man,  in  a 
small  way — a  kind  of  paternal  despot — who  liked 
to  do  kind  and  even  generous  things,  but  who 
objected  to  being  driven  into  them — indeed,  he 
could  not  bear  his  hand  being  forced.  He  not 
only  liked  his  own  way,  but  his  own  way  of  having 
it. 

''What  brings  ye  here?"  he  inquired  curtly. 
"Anything  wrong  at  the  mills ? " 

"Nay,  sir,"  responded  Jabez,  "but  our  Jack 
here  has  got  the  prize  medal  at  the  Exhibition,  for 
t'  new  invention,  and  he  just  thought  you'd  like  to 
have  a  look  at  it." 

"  Surely  it  doesn't  want  three  big  men  to  carry 
a  bit  jimcrack  of  a  medal,"  returned  the  old  man, 
curtly. 

"  It's  no  a  bit  jimcrack,  sir;  it  weighs  welly  an 
ounce." 

"  Nonsense,  nonsense ! "  cried  the  master. 
"  Well,  hand  it  over,  and  let's  see  it.  Hem !  I 
congratulate  thee,  Jack  Heywood.  Well,  what's 
at  back  of  medal  ?  " 


THE   GREAT  INVENTION.  53 


ii  rr 


The  inscription,"  responded  Jack. 

"I've  seen  the  inscription,  lad,  but  there's 
something  more  than  the  inscription  behind  it. 
Three  great  fellows  have  not  come  from  the  mills, 
merely  to  show  mo  a  medal." 

Jack  looked  at  Jabez,  who  stepped  forward  and 
stammered,  "  Well,  it  be  this,  Mr.  Dene,"  he  said, 
placing  Briggs  and  Boodlum's  letter  in  his  hand. 

Jacob  read  it,  and  flushed  with  anger.  Then  he 
got  up,  and  strode  up  and  down  the  library  in  a 
most  un-Quaker-like  manner.  Having  relieved  his 
mind  by  a  little  strong  language,  he  cooled  down 
a  little. 

"  This  is  most  unhandsome,  lads,  and  unbusiness 
like  !  The  idea  of  Briggs  and  Boodlum  coming 
between  me  and  my  peo^Dle !  Well,  if  thou  likest 
to  go,  Jack,  go,  and  luck  go  with  thee.  Abandon 
thy  old  friends  by  all  means — it's  the  way  of  the 
world." 

"  But  it  isn't  my  way,  sir,"  said  Jack.  *'  The 
letter  only  came  an  hour  ago.  How  am  I  to 
answer  it  ?  " 

"  Answer  it,  lad  ?  "  cried  Jacob  Dene.  "  Why 
say  thou'lt  see  Briggs  and  Boodlum  further  first ! 
Say  that  Jacob  Dene  has  secured  the  invention  for 
Deepdale  Mills,  on  thy  own  terms  ;  that  is  to  say," 
continued  the  old  man,  warily  drawing  himself  up, 
"  always  provided  that  the  invention  works  to 
Jacob  Dene's  satisfaction.  The  first  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  go  and  show  this  pretty  thing  (and  it 
is  a  pretty  thing)   to  my  wife  Susanna,  and  her 


54  RACHEL   DENE. 

granddangliter  ;  the  next,  to  order  tlie  machinery, 
and  see  how  it  works,  and  then  we'll  arrange  about 
terms." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  the  drawing-room, 
where  Kachel  and  her  grandmother  gave  them  all 
a  cordial  welcome.  Both  ladies  were  delighted 
with  the  medal.  Finally  Jacob  rang  for  a  bottle 
of  Madeira,  and  i^roposed  success  to  Jack's  in- 
vention. 

When  they  were  about  to  leave,  Eachel  shook 
hands  with  the  lad,  and  said,  smiling,  *'  I  hope, 
Mr.  Heywood " 

"You  used  to  call  me  Jack  once,"  he  said. 

"Well,  then.  Jack,  I  hope  thy  invention  will 
realize  all  thy  desires." 

"Do  you  really  hope  that?"  whispered  Jack. 

"Yes,  truly." 

"If  it  does,  I  shall  be  the  happiest  lad  in  the 
world." 

As  he  looked  her  in  the  eyes,  her  face  flushed 
rosy  red,  but  she  turned  away  without  another 
word. 

On  their  way  back  home  Jasper  and  Jabez  did 
all  the  talking.  When  they  got  to  the  mills,  the 
two  old  fellows  were  in  high  spirits  as  they  went 
from  room  to  room  showing  the  medal.  Lads  and 
lasses  crowded  round  Jack,  to  congratulate  him, 
but  he  walked  about  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream.  At 
last  he  started  off  to  the  cottage,  and  ran  every 
step  of  the  way. 

Joan  was  making  a  pudding  for  the  dinner. 


THE   GREAT  INVENTION.  55 

**  Granny,"  said  he,  "the  gaffer  has  arranged 
for  the  invention." 

"  Good  news,  lad — good  news  !  " 

"And,  granny " 

"Well?" 

"  S]ic  called  me  Jack  I  " 

Then  Joan  threw  her  arms,  flour  and  all,  round 
the  lad's  neck,  and  hugged  him  in  an  ecstasy  of 
delight  at  the  realization  of  her  prophecy. 

A  month  later,  and  one  of  the  machines  was 
fitted  up  in  the  mills  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining 
whether  it  would  accomplish  all  that  the.  young 
inventor  had  promised.  Jacob  Dene,  the  overseer 
of  the  spinning  department,  Mrs.  Hollis,  Mrs. 
Dene,  Rachel,  Ealph,  and  the  vicar,  were  formed 
into  an  informal  committee  of  inspection  to  see 
the  result  of  the  inaugural  experiments. 

Of  course,  the  ladies  knew  as  much  of  the  matter 
as  they  knew  of  Euclid  or  Sanscrit,  nor  were 
Ealph  or  the  vicar  much  wiser.  The  machine 
accomplished  much,  but  the  arrangements  were 
still  incomplete.  However,  the  practised  eyes  of 
the  overseer  and  Jacob  Dene  took  in  in  a  moment 
the  enormous  value  which  must  ultimately  accrue 
from  the  invention.  At  present,  it  required  a  cog 
here,  a  pin  there,  a  strap  round  a  certain  barrel, 
and  then — hey,  presto !  the  entire  trade  would  be 
revolutionized. 

Jack  was  overwhelmed  with  congratulations, 
and  a  little  dinner  was  improvised  at  the   Oaks 


56  RACHEL   DENE. 

that  niglit  in  compliment  to  the  happy  lad.  A 
very  pleasant  gathering  it  was  for  everybody  but 
Ralph  and  his  mother,  who  were  neither  of  them 
too  well  pleased.  Jack  v;as  the  hero  of  the  hour. 
Could  it  have  been  his  fancy  that  Rachel  appeared 
a  little  more  reserved  than  usual?  Everybody 
else  was  full  of  the  great  event,  but  she  had  little 
to  say  about  it,  pleading  ignorance  as  her  excuse. 
This  lack  of  appreciation  was  the  only  alloy  to  our 
inventor's  triumph. 

When  he  got  home,  while  Jasper  and  Jabez 
foregathered  over  their  pipes,  he  got  Joan  into  a 
corner,  and  laid  bare  his  heart. 

"Granny,"  said  he,  '' slie  was  the  only  one  who 
eaid  nowt  about  the  invention." 

Joan  laughed  knowingly. 

*'  Shows  she  tJiought  all  t'  more.  Of  course,  lad, 
thee  doesn't  understand.  But,  there,  thou  seest 
thee  is  na  a  woman,  and  dost  na  know  the  deceitful 
ways  o'  wenches.  I  know  all  about  'em ;  I  was  a 
wench  once  mysen.  When  thy  grandfather  used 
to  come  a-courtin'  me,  I  allays  looked  as  if  I 
wished  un  at  Kirby  Lonsdale,  though  if  he  hadna 
come  I  should  a'  greeted  my  een  out." 

"  Oh,  granny,  do  you  think  that  she  really  cares 
for  me  a  bit — only  a  little  bit  ?  " 

"Cares  for  thee?  Why,  of  course  she  does! 
Only  last  Sunday,  when  she  came  into  church,  she 
smirked  and  nodded  to  Mrs.  Hollis  and  Ralph 
quite  sonsy  like,  then  she  looked  over  at  our  pew 
and  turned  pale  as  a  lily.    What  did  she  turn 


A    BLACK  MONDAY,  57 

pale  for,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Wby,  because 
thou  was  na  theer ;  and  when  thou  earnest  in  by- 
and-by,  and  she  caught  sight  of  thee,  she  flushed 
up  red  as  a  rose  in  June.  What  was  that  for,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  Thou'lt  see,  this  invention 
will  win  thee  thy  wife ;  if  not  to-day,  to-morrow, 
or  next  day.     It'll  come,  lad — it's  sure  to  come  !  " 

Jack  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  hugged  her. 

"And  when  thou  art  a  great  man,  hinney,"  she 
said,  sobbing,  "  thou'lt  no  be  ashamed  o'  thy  old 
granny— wilt  thee.  Jack  ?  " 

"Never — never! " 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A     BLACK     MONDAY. 

Just  as  the  new  invention  was  in  full  swing,  Jack 
got  a  day  off  to  have  a  run  with  the  Brocklesby 
hounds.  When  he  reached  the  meet  there  was  a 
brave  show  of  county  people,  and  conspicuous 
among  the  party  were  Ealph  Hollis  and  Eachel 
Bene.  They  belonged  to  the  privileged  class,  and 
were  in  the  thick  of  the  throng,  while  poor  Jack, 
being  an  intruder,  merely  hung  upon  the  outskirts. 
His  blucher  boots,  bowler  hat,  and  homely 
jacket  did  not  contrast  to  advantage  with  Ralph's 
white  hat,  smart  pink  coat,  boots,  and  breeches. 
Evidently  Master  Ealph  was  well  satisfied  with 
himself  or  with  something  else  that  morning,  for 


58  RACHEL   DENE. 

the  fellow  looked  happy  and  handsome  as  he 
chatted  away  with  Eachel.  For  that  matter,  so 
did  she  until  she  caught  sight  of  Jack,  to  whom 
she  bowed  gravely.  He  returned  the  courtesy  as 
coldly  as  it  was  given. 

''Morning,  Heywood — morning,"  said  Ealph. 
*'  Got  a  day's  holiday  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  growled  Jack,  as  he  gave  his  cob  the 
spur,  and  trotted  off,  half  disposed  to  gallop  back 
to  Deepdale  there  and  then. 

But  he  was  young.  Besides,  he  was  a  York- 
shireman;  so  when  he  heard  the  yelping  of  the 
hounds,  and  the  cry  of  the  "  view  hallo," — for  they 
had  found  a  fox  almost  immediately — he  galloped 
back  even  more  quickly  than  he  had  left  the  field. 

There  had  been  a  heavy  snowfall  a  few  days 
before,  a  heavier  thaw  followed,  a  flood  ensued, 
and  all  the  rivers  in  Yorkshire  overflowed  their 
banks.  The  fox  knew  his  ground,  and  led  straight 
over  hill  and  dale  until  they  reached  Blocklesby 
Ferry,  where  the  Ouse  was  rushing  down  south- 
ward in  a  foaming  torrent.  Without  hesitation, 
Reynard  took  the  stream,  the  dogs  followed,  and, 
despite  the  strength  of  the  current,  made  the  other 
side  a  quarter  of  a  mile  lower  down  in  safet3^ 

Carried  away  by  the  example  of  the  fox  and  the 
hounds,  those  who  were  foremost  in  the  field 
boarded  the  ferry-boat,  which,  in  a  minute's  time, 
was  overcrowded  with  men  and  horses.  Fortu- 
nately only  one  woman  was  aboard. 

The  boat  had  barely  left  the  shore,  when  Jack 


A    BLACK  MONDAY.  59 

came  up  on  his  cob.  Irritated  at  being  left  bcliind, 
he  contemplated  the  departure  of  the  boat  with 
anything  but  equanimity.  There  was  nothing  for 
it,  however,  but  to  await  its  return. 

As  he  looked  on,  impatiently,  a  terrified  horse 
aboard  the  boat,  which  was  now  in  mid  river, 
began  to  rear,  and  kick,  and  plunge.  The  example 
was  contagious ;  every  horse  aboard  followed  suit. 
Amidst  the  yells  of  the  affrighted  animals, 
and  the  wild  cries  of  their  riders,  the  boat  cap- 
sized, and  man  and  beast  were  flung  headlong  in 
one  screaming,  struggling  mass  into  the  rushing 
river.  Jack  never  forgot  that  scene  of  horror  ;  he 
never  can  forget  it  to  his  dying  day.  Man  after 
man  went  down,  wildly  calling  for  help ;  they  rose 
and  sank,  and  rose  and  sank  again,  then  drifted 
down  to  death.  The  noise,  the  struggle,  and  the 
commotion  ceased.  All  was  silent ;  nothing  was 
to  be  heard  to  remind  one  of  this  sudden  and  awful 
tragedy  but  the  roar  of  the  river,  and  then— the 
wild  face  of  a  woman  emerging  from  the  waste  of 
waters  fifty  paces  lower  down.  There  was  but  one 
face  in  all  the  world  like  that,  and  when  Jack 
Heywood  saw  it  rise,  as  it  were,  from  death,  for  a 
moment  his  heart  stood  still ! 

Then  he  pulled  himself  together,  and  with  the 
rapidity  of  lightning  took  stock  of  the  situation. 
A  hundred  paces  still  lower  down  the  river 
described  an  acute  curve,  shaped  almost  like  the 
letter  U.  This  curve  somewhat  broke  and 
deadened  the  force  of  the  torrent. 


6o  RACHEL  DENE. 

Keeping  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fair,  pale  face, 
Jack  sx^urred  his  horse  till  he  reached  the  bend  of 
the  curve,  and  then,  with  set  teeth  and  muscles  of 
steel,  he  pulled  u^d,  ready  to  take  the  leap  on  "which 
life  or  death  depended. 

As  he  looked,  the  face  went  down  for  the  second 
time. 

For  the  second  time !  There  was  still  one 
chance  left.  At  the  edge  of  the  curve,  it  rose  for 
the  third  time.  The  eyes — the  pleading  eyes — 
met  his ! 

All  depended  now  upon  when  and  how  he  should 
take  the  leap.  A  moment  too  soon,  and  he  would 
be  carried  down  the  river,  powerless  to  help, 
before  her.  A  moment  too  late,  and  he  would  be 
behind  her.  There  was  a  third  and  worse 
alternative,  he  might  ride  over  her. 

At  the  supreme  moment  he  drew  himself 
together,  and  the  leap  was  made. 

As  she  floated  by  in  the  last  agony,  he  plucked 
her  by  her  sunny  hair,  which  fell  in  great 
dishevelled  masses  down  her  shoulders,  flung  her 
across  his  saddle-bow,  and  floated  safely  down  the 
river,  until  he  approached  another  curve,  which 
enabled  him  to  land  in  safety  with  his  precious 
burden. 

She  was  cold  and  inanimate  as  death.  Save 
for  the  feeble  beating  of  her  heart,  she  might  have 
been  dead  indeed.  He  held  her  in  his  strong 
arms — he  pressed  her  to  his  heart — he  laid  her 
tenderly  upon  the  ground — he  chafed  her  hands — 


A   BLACK  MONDAY.  6i 

he  laid  his  cheeks  to  hers — he  kissed  her  brow, 
her  eyes,  her  lips — not  with  a  lover's  passion,  but 
with  a  man's  devotion,  trying  to  breathe  his  own 
warmth  and  vitality  into  her  expiring  life,  all  the 
while  beseeching  Heaven  with  tears  and  prayers 
to  spare  her  for  the  sake  of  those  who  loved 
her,  and,  perchance,  a  little  for  his  own. 

Surely  his  prayer  was  heard  and  answered  ;  for 
— with  a  shudder  which  thrilled  her  from  head  to 
foot,  quickening  her  blood  into  returning  life — she 
opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  at  him. 

"  Jack  !  "  she  gasped.     That  was  all. 

But  that  was  enough. 

We  have  lost  sight  of  Ealph,  as,  indeed,  he  had 
lost  sight  of  Eachel  half  an  hour  before.  The  fact 
was,  his  mare  had  shied  at  Thorby  Beck,  which 
was  swollen  like  a  torrent,  while  Eachel,  Squire 
Mordaunt,  and  a  dozen  others  whose  blood  was 
up,  had  taken  it  flying,  from  the  edge  of  the 
cliff. 

Ealph  was  not  alone — for  two-thirds  of  the  field 
shirked  the  leap,  and  concluded  to  make  a  detour. 
But  Jack  had  made  a  way  for  himself ;  and  while 
the  others  were  crawling  leisurely  round  to  the 
left,  he  discovered  a  narrower  arm  of  the  dyke — 
leaped  it — and  hence  it  was  that,  guided  by  the 
hand  of  Heaven,  he  had  arrived  in  time  to  save 
the  life  he  loved. 

Yes,  she  was  safe — there  was  no  doubt  about 
that.    But  how  to  get  her  to  some  haven  of  refuge  ? 


62  RACHEL  DENE. 

There  was  no  sign  of  shed  or  shelter,  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach. 

While  she  lay  shivering  on  the  ground  in  her 
wet  clothes — to  make  matters  more  agreeable,  it 
began  to  snow.  Then  he  pulled  off  his  coat,  and 
wrapped  it  round  her.  If  he  only  had  a  flask  now ; 
but  he  carried  nothing  of  the  kind. 

The  snow  thickened — he  didn't  feci  it — for  the 
fever  in  his  heart  had  set  him  on  fire. 

Leaving  his  sturdy  cob  beside  her,  he  ran  two 
or  three  hundred  yards  towards  one  of  those  stone 
fences  so  common  in  Yorkshire.  Leaping  atop, 
he  gave  the  view  hallo  !  There  w^as  no  response. 
Again,  and  yet  again,  he  shouted — still  no  reply. 

The  snowflakes  fell  heavier  and  heavier — the 
grey  clouds  thickened,  and  became  overcast — until 
a  pall  of  darkness  overshadowed  the  earth. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

He  overleaped  the  intervening  dyke,  and  ran 
over  a  ploughed  field,  sinking  into  the  sludge, 
almost  knee-deep  at  every  step.  Again  he  leaped 
the  wall — again  he  shouted.  This  time,  he  was 
answered.  He  listened  with  his  heart  in  his 
mouth.  Presently  he  heard  the  murmur  of  distant 
voices,  the  galloping  of  horses. 

At  last,  ten  or  a  dozen  horsemen,  with  Ralph 
Hollis  at  their  head,  emerged  from  the  mist. 
When  Jack  told  them  what  had  happened,  a  thrill 
of  horror  passed  through  the  group,  and  an  awful 
silence  befell  as  they  thought  of  friends  and 
comrades  thus  untimely  called  to  their  last  account. 


A    BLACK  MONDAY.  63 

While  they  stood  Hke  men  transformed  to  stone, 
Jack  said  to  Tom  Brixholme,  the  whipper-in,  who 
bestrode  a  great  sorrel  mare,  "  Tom,  give  us  a  lift 
behind  thee,  lad.  While  these  gentlemen  stand 
gaping  here,  poor  Miss  Dene  will  be  perished ;  so 
give  the  mare  her  head,  and  let  her  up." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  off  they  went  in  a  gallop, 
followed  by  the  rest  of  the  field,  until  they  reached 
the  spot  where  Eachel  still  lay  shivering. 

Dismounting  rapidly  he  knelt  beside  her,  and, 
raising  her  tenderly,  placed  his  ear  against  her 
bosom.  It  still  palpitated  gently;  so  there  was 
no  immediate  cause  for  alarm. 

Up  to  this  moment  Ralph  had  not  spoken. 

At  last  he  said,  "  How  can  I  thank  you  ?  " 

*'  I  don't  need  your  thanks,"  replied  the  other. 

Ealph  paused  for  a  moment  as  he  made  answer. 

*'  Of  course  I  shall  take  her  home  at  once." 

'*  Excuse  me,"  said  Jack,  "  but  I  shall  take  care 
of  her  this  turn.  Happen  one  of  you  gentlemen 
may  have  such  a  thing  as  a  drop  of  brandy  about 
you  ?  " 

Half  a  dozen  flasks  were  instantly  placed  at  his 
disposal,  and  when  he  had  succeeded  in  getting  a 
few  drops  of  the  potent  spirit  down  her  throat  she 
began  to  revive. 

There  was  no  conveyance — not  even  so  much  as 
a  hurdle — so  Jack  did  not  hesitate  as  to  his  plan 
of  action. 

"Tom  Brixholme,"  said  he,  "is  there  e'er  a 
farmhouse  nigh  ?  " 


64  RACHEL  DENE. 

"  Yes,  there's  Farmer  Sparrow's— at  Barnolby- 
le-Beck,  about  a  mile  off." 

Lifting  Eacbel  from  the  ground,  Jack  continued, 
**  As  soon  as  I'm  mounted,  give  her  to  me." 

"Eight  you  are.  Jack,"  replied  the  whipper-in. 
''But  first,  lad,  slip  on  this  coat.  It  be  t'  Squire's. 
I  brought  it  for  un,  sure.  He'll  never  want  it 
again,  poor  ge'l'man  !  " 

Jack  slipped  on  Squire  Mordaunt's  coat,  sprang 
astride  the  cob,  and  rode  leisurely  to  Barnolby-le- 
Beck,  bearing  his  treasure  in  his  arms — upon  his 
heart.  Poor  Ealph  felt  that  his  nose  was  out  of 
joint,  and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  follow 
and  play  second  fiddle,  which  he  did  with  a  rueful 
face.  There  is  no  use,  however,  kicking  against 
the  pricks,  and  he  had  to  accept  the  inevitable. 

When  they  got  to  Farmer  Sparrow's,  the  dame 
and  her  milking-maid  took  charge  of  Eachel.  The 
honest  soul  stripped  the  girl  of  her  wet  clothing, 
chafed  the  frigid  limbs,  got  her  to  bed,  and 
administered  a  warm  posset. 

As  soon  as  she  came  to,  she  inquired,  "  Where's 
Jack?" 

"  I  don't  know  who  Jack  is,"  replied  the  dame, 
*'but  there  be  two  young  men  downstairs.  One 
carried  you  here  in  his  arms  on  horseback;  the 
other  is  in  pink,  and  raal  handsome  he  is." 

**  Prithee  tell  them  to  let  Grandpapa  and  Grandma 
Dene  know  that  I'm  all  right ;  only  I'm  so  sleepy." 

Five  minutes  later  she  was  sleeping  placidly  as 
an  infant. 


A   BLACK  MONDAY.  65 

While  she  slept,  the  two  young  men  rode  towards 
Deepdale  together.  Ealph  smoked  mcessantly, 
and  stopped  at  every  halfway  house  to  have  a  nip. 
It  was  in  vain  that  he  invited  Jack  to  accompany 
him.  The  latter  had  already  taken  the  precaution 
to  fortify  himself  at  Dame  Sparrow's  with  hot 
coffee  and  a  dish  of  ham  and  eggs.  Both  men 
were  moody  and  taciturn,  and  spoke  little  to  each 
other. 

Upon  arriving  in  the  valley,  Ralph  went  to  the 
Vicarage.  Jack  paused  for  a  moment  at  the 
cottage  to  hurriedly  tell  Joan  and  Jasper  what 
had  happened,  and  to  ask  the  old  woman  to  get 
some  dry  clothing  ready  for  him ;  then  he  picked 
up  Jabez  at  the  mills,  and  they  went  to  the  Oaks 
together. 

Mrs.  Dene  and  Jacob  were  much  alarmed  at 
Eachel's  absence,  for  it  was  now  getting  on  for 
nine  o'clock,  and  they  had  expected  her  back  to 
dinner  at  six.  When  Jack  told  them  what  had 
happened,  Jacob  ordered  the  break  out  immediately. 
It  was  useless  for  Jack  to  assure  him  that  there 
was  no  further  danger.  Jacob  was  impatient  of 
opposition. 

"  Thy  cob  is  worn  out,"  he  said.  "  Go  to  the 
stable,  and  take  the  best  nag  thou  canst  find. 
Take  it,  and  keep  it,  lad,  for  this  day's  work. 
That'll  do ;  spare  thy  speech.  Gallop  down  to  the 
Vicarage.  Tell  parson  I'll  call  for  him  in  half  an 
hour ;  and,  Jabez,  do  thou  call  on  Doctor  Whitaker, 
and  ask  him  to  make  ready  to  go  with  us." 


i6  RACHEL  DENE. 

The  poor  cob  was  indeed  done  up ;  that  struggle 
in  the  river,  and  the  ride  to  Farmer  Sparrow's 
double  weighted,  and  the  long  ride  to  Deepdale, 
had  taken  the  backbone  out  of  him,  so  Jack  was 
not  sorry  to  give  him  a  rest.  But  in  Jacob's 
stable  there  was  a  splendid  young  chestnut  mare 
called  Lucy,  which  Jack  had  long  admired. 

While  the  groom  saddled  her,  Jack  gave  the  cob 
a  rub  down ;  then  he  leaped  upon  the  mare,  and 
trotted  down  to  the  cottage,  where  he  slipped  on 
his  dry  clothing,  which  done,  he  galloped  on  to 
the  Vicarage,  which  he  found  in  a  state  of  con- 
sternation. 

Almost  immediately  upon  Ralph's  arrival  he 
was  taken  suddenly  ill.  Whether  occasioned  by 
fatigue,  anxiety,  vexation,  or  those  repeated  "nips" 
on  the  way,  or  all  combined,  no  man  may  tell. 

Doctor  Whitaker  had  already  been  sent  for.  He 
merely  unloosed  the  young  man's  neck-cloth,  smelt 
his  breath,  and  shook  his  head. 

"Is  there  any  danger?"  inquired  Mrs.  Hollis, 
anxiously. 

"Nothing  that  a  draught  of  bitter  water  in  the 
morning  will  not  obviate.  For  the  present,  put 
him  to  bed,  and  let  him  sleep." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  Denes,  the  vicar,  the 
doctor,  Jabez,  and  Rachel's  maid  were  on  their 
way  to  Barnolby-le-Beck,  accompanied  by  Jack. 
To  their  inexpressible  relief,  they  found  their 
darling  still  sleeping  soundly — so  soundly  that  the 
doctor  forbore  to  wake  her. 


A   BLACK  MONDAY.  67 

Then  came  a  difficulty.  It  was  now  too  late  to 
return  to  Deepdale.  Dame  Sparrow  was,  however, 
a  woman  of  resources,  and  beds  were  improvised 
here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  soon  after  mid- 
night the  house  was  at  rest. 

Eachel  did  not  awake  until  about  nine  o'clock. 
When  she  found  her  grandmother  on  one  side  of 
the  bed,  and  the  maid  on  the  other,  she  said, 
*'  I've  been  dreaming,  grandma,  such  a  strange 
dream.  I  thought  I  was  out  with  the  hounds  at 
Brocklesby  Ferry ;  that  the  boat  was  capsized ; 
that  every  one  was  drowned  but  me;  that  Jack 
came  and  saved  me."  • 

"  And  so  he  did,  my  darling !  It  was  no  dream. 
The  brave  lad  did  save  thee,  God  bless  him !  But 
see,  here's  Jacob,  and  Grandpa  Lyster,  and  Doctor 
Whitaker." 

When  the  two  old  men  saw  their  darling,  radiant 
with  youth  and  health,  they  kissed  and  caressed 
her;  and  at  a  signal  from  the  vicar,  all  knelt 
beside  the  bed  and  offered  up  a  silent  thanksgiving 
that  she  had  been  delivered  from  the  jaws  of 
death. 

By-and-by,  when  the  doctor  came  and  told  Jack 
and  Jabez  that  all  the  danger  was  past,  the  two 
men  shook  hands  in  silence,  and  while  Jabez  went 
to  take  his  morning  pipe  in  the  farmyard,  Jack 
went  out  for  a  stroll  towards  the  Beck. 

He  walked  along  lazily,  with  his  bands  in  his 
pockets,  until  he  was  out  of  sight  of  the  house  and 
its  inhabitants. 


68  RACHEL  DENE. 

Then  Master  Jack  ran  a  little,  he  danced  a  little, 
he  laughed  a  good  deal,  then  he  burst  out  crying, 
like  a  great  baby ;  but  finally  he  walked  quietly 
back  to  the  farm,  softly  whistling  **  The  British 
Grenadiers."  When  he  got  to  the  kitchen,  Jabez 
was  sitting  down  to  breakfast. 

"  Thou  art  happy,  lad !  "  said  he. 

"Ay,  and  hungry,  too,  Jabez  !  " 

Evidently  he  was,  for  he  polished  off  his  break- 
fast in  fine  style. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

RALPH   HOLLIS. 

We  have  compared  Ralph  Hollis  and  Jack  Hey  wood 
to  the  idle  and  industrious  apprentices  immortalized 
by  Hogarth ;  but  the  comparison  is,  of  course,  an 
inadequate  one,  since  the  two  lads  of  Deepdale, 
unlike  their  prototypes,  didn't  "  start  fair."  Hollis 
had  all  the  advantages  of  birth,  blood,  education, 
and  refined  surroundings  ;  Heywood  had  all  the 
disadvantages  on  the  other  side.  And  yet,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  poorer  lad  was  rapidly  gaining  on 
his  social  superior.  He  was  recognized  on  every 
hand  as  a  clever,  industrious  fellow,  likely  to  rise 
to  almost  any  position.  He  had  already  invented 
a  mood  of  economizing  labour  which  might  bring 
him  in  a  fortune ;  and,  to  crown  all,  he  was  a  hero 
— he  had  saved  Rachel  Dene's  life. 


RALPH  MOLLIS.  69 

All  this  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  the  hand- 
some son  of  Mrs.  Hollis.  To  be  surpassed  in 
everything  by  a  social  inferior,  and  one  his  junior 
by  several  years,  was  a  constant  source  of  irrita- 
tion. In  his  dilemma  he  turned  for  help  to  his 
mother,  who,  rendered  preternaturally  acute  by 
maternal  affection,  kept  her  eyes  fixed  constantly 
on  Rachel  Dene,  and  saw,  to  her  amazement,  that 
Ralph  was  daily  losing  ground.  True,  Ea«hel 
liked  the  young  man  very  well,  for  he  was  gay, 
dashing,  and  not  ungenerous  of  disposition;  but 
whenever  there  was  a  hint  of  love-making  she 
shielded  herself  under  the  grey  hood  of  Quakerdom, 
and  couldn't  or  wouldn't  understand.  Attracted 
as  much  by  her  physical  beauty  as  by  her  fortune, 
Ralph  used  all  his  powers  of  fascination,  which 
were  not  very  great,  seeing  that  his  experience 
lay  chiefly  among  ladies  of  lighter  disposition. 
He  was  quite  at  home  with  a  handsome  barmaid 
or  a  mirth-loving  mill-girl,  but  he  didn't  under- 
stand the  ways  of  pure  and  cultivated  women. 

The  mother  and  son,  like  many  who  love  each 
other  much,  wrangled  a  good  deal  over  this  and 
other  subjects.  Mrs.  Hollis  was  proud  and  im- 
perious ;  Ralph  irritable  and  indolent ;  and  some- 
times they  came  to  such  high  words  that  they 
hardly  spoke  afterwards  for  days  together.  Then 
Ralph  would  drive  over  to  Barford  to  dine  with 
the  officers  of  the  Forty-First,  his  father's  old 
regiment ;  there  would  be  cards,  and  dice,  and 
billiards,  and  other  amusements  popular  among 


70  RACHEL  DENE. 

sucii  young  gentlemen,  and  our  idle  apprentice 
would  ride  back  to  the  counting-house  "with  an 
aching  head  and  an  empty  pocket,  to  go  through 
the  disagreeable  drudgery  of  earning  his  daily 
bread.  Over  and  over  again,  however,  he  had  to 
appeal  to  his  mother  to  help  him  out  of  his  diffi- 
culties, and  in  doing  so  she  got  into  difficulties 
herself.  Still,  it  was  for  her  darling's  sake ;  and, 
as  the  young  scapegrace  constantly  promised 
amendment,  the  poor,  fond  mother  helj)ed  him, 
and  prayed  for  better  days. 

There  was  one  consolation — Ealph  was  the  next- 
of-kin  to  an  earldom.  How  fervently,  amidst  his 
pecuniary  and  other  troubles,  he  prayed  that  his 
titled  relative  might  remain  a  bachelor,  and  die  at 
as  early  an  opportunity  as  was  convenient  and 
possible. 

More  than  once  Jacob  Dene  lectured  the  young 
man  on  his  conduct.  One  day,  when  Ealph 
returned  from  a  night's  orgy  just  in  time  to  get  to 
his  desk  in  the  morning,  the  old  Quaker  sent  for 
him,  and  thus  addressed  him :  "  Thou  art  no 
flesh  and  blood  of  mine,  Ealph  Hollis,  but  I  am 
sorry  to  see  thy  mother's  son  going  so  fast  downhill 
to  the  place  thou  knowest.  Thou  wast  at  Barford 
last  night,  and  rode  over  at  daybreak?  " 

Ealph,  who  looked  pale  and  wretched,  and  felt 
desperately  ill  and  uncomfortable,  forced  a  laugh. 

*'A  friend  was  going  away.  We  gave  him  a 
little  dinner,  and  kept  it  up  rather  late." 

''Who  was  thy  friend?" 


RALPH  HOLLIS.  ^\ 

*'  Mr.  Ilarkaway,  of  the  Forty-First.  His  father 
and  mine  were  intimately  acquainted.  I  hope,  Mr. 
Dene,  you  don't  find  me  inattentive  to  my  duties  ? 
I  do  my  best,  but  the  fact  is,  you  know,  I  haven't 
much  of  a  head  for  business." 

"Nay,"  said  Jacob  Dene,  dryly;  "thou  likest 
card-playing  and  folly  better  than  honest  work. 
Hast  thou  ever  reflected,  man,  what  it  means  to 
thee  and  thy  mother  ?  " 

Ralph  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You  see,  I  wasn't  born  for  this  sort  of  thing," 
he  muttered,  biting  his  lips,  and  scowling  moodily. 

"Born  to  be  hung,  maybe !  "  cried  the  Quaker, 
sharply.     "  What  dost  thou  call  thyself  ?  " 

"  A  gentleman,  I  suppose." 

"  I  know  a  better  word — a  ne'er-do-well.  Take 
warning  and  example  !  There's  a  lad  in  these  mills 
who  might  teach  thee,  if  thou  art  capable  of 
learning  a  lesson." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  young  Hey  wood,"  returned 
Ralph.  "  I  know,  sir,  he's  your  favourite,  but 
allow  me  to  say  that  a  gentleman  does  not  take 
example  by  his  social  inferiors." 

"  Thou  art  a  jackanapes  !  "  cried  Jacob,  angrily. 
**  I  have  a  mind  to  send  thee  packing  !  If  it  were 
not  for  thy  mother's  sake " 

"  Pray  don't  mind  her  !  "  returned  Ralph,  hotly, 
for  he  was  in  the  humour  for  a  quarrel.  "  I  can 
go,  sir,  whenever  you  like.  I  dare  say  I  can  pick 
up  a  living  somehow  and  somewhere." 

And  he  flounced  out  of  his  master's  room,  and 


72  RACHEL  DENE. 

returned  to  bis  place  in  the  counting-house.  He 
was  sick  of  the  whole  business,  and  did  not  care, 
for  the  moment,  what  might  happen.  In  bis 
irritation  and  anger,  he  forgot  altogether  about 
Eachel.  "When  he  recovered  bis  temper,  be  re- 
gretted bis  hasty  words  on  her  account,  and  felt 
half-inclined  to  apologize.  However,  he  was  too 
proud  for  that. 

But  Jacob  Dene  made  no  further  sign,  beyond 
talking  over  matters  with  Mrs.  Hollis,  and  begging 
her  to  use  her  influence  towards  the  young  man's 
reformation,  which  she  tearfully  promised  to  do. 
A  few  evenings  later,  when  Ealph  had  finished  his 
dinner,  and  sat  by  the  fire  in  the  vicar's  sanctum 
reading  a  sporting  newspaper,  she  came  in  and 
sat  down  opposite  her  son.  The  vicar  was  out  on 
a  sick  call,  and  they  were  quite  alone. 

She  did  not  speak  for  some  time,  but  sat  with 
her  ej'es  fixed  on  the  fire. 

At  last  she  said  quietly,  **  Have  you  seen  Eachel 
to-day  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  replied,  over  bis  newspaper. 

**  She  called  this  afternoon." 

"  Humph  !  "  muttered  the  young  man,  carelessly. 

Another  silence.  It  was  clear  that  Ealph  was 
prepared  for  a  lecture,  for  without  looking  up  he 
continued  to  read  his  newspaper  with  a  scowl. 

"  Put  down  that  paper  and  talk  to  me,"  said 
Mrs.  Hollis.  Ealph  hesitated  a  moment,  then 
threw  the  journal  aside. 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?"  he  exclaimed. 


liALPH  MOLLIS.  73 

*'  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  yourself,  autl 
al)out  Kacliel." 

"  Well,  mother  ?  " 

"  You  are  behaving  very  foolishly  and  very 
badly.     Mr.  Dene  is  right." 

"  Oh,  he  has  been  sounding  my  praises  !  "  cried 
Pialph.  "  Old  humbug !  I  gave  him  a  bit  of  my 
mind  the  other  day  when  he  began  preaching  to 
me  down  at  the  mill.  He  thinks  me  a  fool,  but 
he's  mistaken." 

"  I'm  afraid  he's  right,"  returned  Mrs.  Hollis. 

''Thank  you!" 

"He  complains,  and  justly,  that  you  neglect 
your  duties,  and  keep  bad  company." 

"I  keep  company  v/ith  gentlemen,  which  is 
more  than  he  has  ever  done.  Mother,"  he  added 
hotly,  "  I'm  sick  of  it  all.  I  was  never  meant  to 
be  chained  to  a  desk,  or  to  pore  over  figures  in  a 
ledger.  I'm  determined  to  cut  it  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"  And  Eachel  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hollis,  coldly. 

"  Pachel  is  as  bad  as  her  grandfather.  She 
never  cared  for  me,  and  never  will.  Why  should 
I  keep  on  dangling  at  the  heels  of  a  methodistical 
flirt  ?  Why  should  I  humiliate  myself  by  following 
a  girl  like  that  ?  " 

"It  is  your  own  fault  if  you  have  not  vron  her 
heart,"  said  the  lady.  "  You  have  had  every 
chance,  yet  you  let  her  go  without  an  effort.  You 
waste  half  your  time  with  the  men  at  Barford,  and 
while  you  are  playing  cards  and  billiards,  young 


74  EACH  EL  DENE. 

Heywood,  who  has  not  a  tithe  of  your  gifts,  is 
gaining  every  clay  in  her  esteem." 

"  Nice  taste  that !  "  sneered  Ealph.  "  A  common 
mechanic !  A  fellow  who  can't  speak  decent 
English !  " 

"  He's  not  so  bad  as  that ;  though,  of  course, 
he  is  not  a  gentleman.  Eemember,  however,  that 
Jacob  Dene  himself  belongs  to  the  people,  and  so, 
for  that  matter,  does  Eachel  herself." 

Ealph  rose  impatiently,  and  stood  with  his  back 
to  the  fire,  looking  angrily  at  his  mother. 

*'  Let  Eachel  take  the  fellow,  and  welcome.  I 
am  sick  of  humouring  her  human  fancies  !  " 

*'You  know  you  love  her,  so  don't  talk  so 
absurdly,"  said  Mrs.  HoUis.  "  Oh,  Ealph,  do  look 
at  the  matter  seriously.  You  are  ruining  your 
own  prospects  and  breaking  my  heart !  " 

And  the  proud  woman  hung  her  head,  while  the 
fast-streaming  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 

With  all  his  faults,  Ealph  loved  his  mother. 
She  was  the  only  living  being,  indeed,  who  in- 
spired in  him  either  deep  respect  or  strong  affec- 
tion; so  her  grief  moved  him,  and,  bending  over 
her,  he  asked  her  forgiveness. 

"But  you  know,  mother,"  he  said,  "I  cannot 
bear  the  life  I  am  leading.  I  ought  to  have  been 
a  soldier,  like  my  father.  After  all,  that's  the  only 
life  fit  for  a  man  !  " 

In  his  secret  heart  Ealph  w^as  thinking  more  of 
the  amusements  and  dissipations  of  military  life 
than  of  its  dangers   and   glories ;   but   the   fond 


RALPH  IIOLLIS.  75 

mother  looked  at  him  in  sudden  pride,  and  thought, 
with  a  sigh,  how  closely  he  resembled  his  dead 
father. 

"I  wish  it  could  have  been,"  she  said.  *'My 
boy,  you  must  be  patient ;  perhaps  some  day  our 
fortunes  may  change,  and  then " 

She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  he  under- 
stood her.  Both  were  thinking  of  the  one  life 
which  stood  between  Ealph  Hollis  and  an  earldom. 
Little  did  Mrs.  Hollis  know  that,  even  in  that 
faint  expectation  of  the  succession — faint  because 
the  present  Earl  was  strong  and  hale,  and  might 
marry  any  day — the  young  man  had  already 
speculated  largely.  He  was,  in  fact,  far  deeper  in 
the  mire  of  difficulties  than  any  one  suspected. 
That  very  morning  a  writ  had  been  served  upon 
him  in  the  streets  of  Deepdale.  He  had  got  among 
a  bad  set,  and  in  order  to  keep  pace  with  its 
members  he  had  used  every  device  to  raise  money. 
His  mother's  resources  were,  as  he  knew,  ex- 
hausted ;  his  own  were  unsubstantial  as  thin  air, 
for  the  small  sum  he  received  for  his  work  at  the 
mills  would  have  scarcely  sufficed  to  pay  his  tailor's 
bilL 


76  RACHEL  DENE, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    FOREWARNING. 

That  business  at  Brocklesby  Ferry  was  a  bad 
clay's  work  for  Ralph  Hollis. 

He  was  thankful,  however,  that  it  was  no  worse. 
Had  he  been  beside  Rachel  at  the  critical  moment, 
he  might  have  been  unable  to  restrain  her  from 
going  on  board  the  boat.  Of  course,  he  would 
have  gone  with  her ;  then,  in  sporting  phraseology, 
the  odds  were  ten  to  one  that  he  would  have  been 
drowned  with  the  rest.  On  the  other  hand,  had 
he  come  up  with  Jack,  both  would  have  certainly 
jumped  into  the  river  together  in  the  endeavour 
to  save  her;  and  perhaps  while  the  rivals  were 
struggling  for  the  honour  of  rescuing  her,  they 
would  all  three  have  perished.  Of  course,  it  was 
not  Ralph's  fault  that  his  mare  shied  at  Thorby 
Beck,  but  it  was  his  misfortune.  It  left  him  out 
of  the  hunt,  and  gave  Jack  a  chance  which  might 
never  occur  again  in  his  lifetime. 

Then  there  was  that  confounded  brandy,  of 
which  he  had  taken  enough,  and  to  spare.  Yes, 
he  reflected;  it  was  a  bad  day's  work  for  him. 

However  that  might  be,  that  Black  Monday 
could  never  be  blotted  out ;  and  no  one  knew  it 
better  than  Ralph  himself — that  is,  when  he  was 
himself.    At  times  he  would  be  resolute,  and  never 


A    FOREWARNING.  77 

touch  alcohol  for  weeks  together.  Then  a  moment 
of  weakness  or  temptation  occurred,  and  away 
went  his  virtuous  resolves  like  a  handful  of  thistle- 
down before  the  wind.  So  long  as  he  was  under 
the  influence  of  his  mother  he  was  right  enough ; 
but  he  could  not  always  be  tied  to  her  apron- 
strings,  and  when  once  he  got  among  his  mihtary 
and  racing  friends,  good-bye  to  prudence  and 
common  sense. 

His  extravagance  had  involved  Mrs.  Hollis  in 
continual  difficulties.  So  long  as  her  father- 
in-law  lived  she  got  a  little  help  occasionally ; 
but  he  had  been  deceased  for  nearly  a  year, 
and  her  brother-in-law,  the  new  Earl,  had 
refused  to  give  her  a  shilling.  It  was,  however 
almost  a  certainty  that  Ealph  would  inherit  thv 
earldom  at  some  distant  period,  which  was  some- 
thing to  look  forward  to.  If  the  lad  would  only 
keep  steady,  and  if  that  match  could  be  brought 

about  with  Eachel But,  then,   if  it  could 

not? 

He  had  set  his  heart  upon  her,  and  the  thought 
of  losing  her  seemed  beyond  the  bare  pale  of 
possibility.  Still,  he  could  not  help  fancying  that 
she  had  never  been  the  same  to  him  since  the  day 
at  the  ferry.  He  noted,  too,  with  growing  im- 
patience and  irritation,  that  Jack  was  a  frequent 
guest  at  the  Oaks,  that  he  had  taken  to  dressing 
in  a  more  civilized  manner,  that  he  had  even 
taken  to  lawn-tennis,  and  that  he  was  a  deft  and 
dangerous  opponent   in  that,  or  any  other  game 


78  RACHEL  DENE. 

in  which  skill,  or  strength,  or  courage  were 
necessary. 

Now  Ealph  had  so  long  taught  himself  to  helieve 
that  Eachel  was  to  be  his  wife,  that  the  bare  idea 
of  any  other  man  coming  between  them  appeared 
an  outrage.  That  a  mere  ordinary  operative — a 
vulgar  mechanic — should  dare  to  aspire  to  Eachel 
— Hs  bright  and  beautiful  Eachel — was  not  to  be 
thought  of. 

But  Jack  was  not  an  ''  ordmary  "  operative — on 
the  contrary,  he  was  a  very  extraordinary  one ; 
and,  though  a  mechanic,  he  was  by  no  means  a 
vulgarian.  Moreover,  he  was  now  in  a  fair  way  to 
become  a  rich  man. 

They  met  daily  at  the  mills,  and  though  not 
particularly  cordial,  were  always  civil  to  each 
other.  The  proverb  is  as  true  as  it  is  trite,  that 
*'  lookers  on  see  most  of  the  game ;  "  and  Jabez 
saw  with  increasing  anxiety,  that  distrust  was 
ripening  into  dislike  between  these  two  young 
men. 

As  for  the  innocent  cause  of  this  contention,  she 
scarcely  knew  her  own  heart,  or,  if  she  did,  she 
did  not  care  to  scrutinize  it  too  closely.  She  was 
really  always  glad  to  see  Ealph — that  is,  when  he 
was  not  too  pressing  in  his  attentions.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  was  grateful  to  Jack  Heywood  for 
having  saved  her  life — and  perhaps  a  little  more 
than  pleased  to  see  evidences  of  some  attempt  at 
refinement  in  his  manners  and  demeanour. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  great  invention,  though 


A    FOREIVARNING,  79 

it  scarcely  justified  its  title,  proved  so  far  satisfac- 
tory, that  it  was  adopted,  with  certain  modifications, 
in  the  Deepdale  Mills ;  and  before  Jack  Heywood 
attained  his  majority,  he  found  himself  foreman  of 
the  department  in  which  the  machine  was  used, 
and  in  the  receipt  of  a  handsome  income.  This 
increased  prosperity  made  no  difference  in  his 
domestic  habits.  He  continued  to  live  at  the 
cottage  with  the  old  people. 

"Didna  I  allays  say  it !  "  Joan  would  constantly 
exclaim.  **  Thou  wast  born  to  be  a  gentleman, 
and  some  day,  lad,  thou'lt  be  master  0'  t'  mill 
itself." 

Jack  would  laugh,  and  blush,  and  look  at  himself 
in  the  glass,  and  think,  very  possibly,  that  the 
old  woman  was  not  far  wrong.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, marred  the  completeness  of  his  self-satisfac- 
tion. His  new  pride  and  happiness  seemed  to 
make  no  favourable  impression  on  Jabez  Pryke. 

One  day,  therefore,  he  spoke  out  to  Jabez.  It 
was  just  after  the  dinner  hour,  and  they  were 
walking  back  to  the  mills  together — he  with  a 
rose  in  the  button-hole  of  his  office-suit,  Jabez  in 
all  the  picturesque  shabbiness  of  his  working 
clothes. 

"  What  ails  you,  Jabez  ?  "  he  asked.  *'  You 
seem  changed  a  bit  from  old  times.  Sometimes  I 
fancy  you're  sorry  to  know  of  my  good  luck." 

The  overseer  stopped  short,  and  looked  at  him 
quietly  with  his  gentle,  patient  eyes — eyes  so  full 
pf  introspection,  that  they  seemed  to  suffer  from 


8o  RACHEL  DENE. 

the  tender  light  they  shed  upon  him.     Then  he 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  young  man's  shoulder. 

"It's  just  this,  lad,"  he  replied.  "I'm  reet 
glad  o'  your  good  luck,  and  proud  o't  into  the 
bargain ;  hut  I'm  troubled  whiles  i'  my  own  mind 
about  what's  to  come  o't.  'Taint  allays  the  best 
or  the  cleverest  colt  as  wins  t'  race,  and  'twould  be 
a  bad  look-out  if  t'  luck  were  to  turn  thy  head." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  cried  the  lad,  flushing 
angrily. 

"I  mean  naut  but  what  I  say.  Jack.  T'  luck, 
maybe,  has  come  too  quick  to  last.  You're  nobbut 
a  boy,  and  you're  reckoning  the  race  o'er  far 
ahead." 

"  How  d'ye  know  that  ?  I  do  my  work  and  bide 
my  time,  and  Master  Dene  has  promised  to  help 
me  along." 

"  That's  reet  enough,"  said  the  overseer.  "But 
he'll  ne'er  help  thee  to  Miss  Eachel,  if  that's  i'  thy 
mind.  T'  master's  proud,  and  he  has  the  right  to 
be  proud ;  but  he's  a  great  man,  lad,  and  try  thy 
best,  you're  nobbut  one  of  the  people.  Blood's 
thicker  nor  water,  as  t'  saying  is." 

The  lad  looked  angrily  at  the  speaker,  who 
continued  quietly. 

"But  'tis  not  that  I  were  thinking  o'  altogether. 
You're  gotten  beyond  us  hardworking  folk,  and 
hankering  after  fine  company.  Up  at  Barford, 
holiday  times,  you  spend  your  brass  wi'  swells. 
Last  Leger,  you  went  into  t'  ring,  and  lost  money 
on  t'  favourite." 


(      83      ) 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE   FEAST   OF    ST.   LEGER. 

The  great  Yorksbire  carnival  came  on  again. 
Saint  Lcger  was  holding  sovereign  sway  and 
masterdom  on  the  Moor  at  Doncaster. 

The  mill  hands  had  knocked  ofT,  and  gone  in 
thousands  by  a  special  train.  Everybody  in  Deep- 
dale  had  gone  except  Joan  and  Jasper  Hcywood, 
whose  knee  was  as  big  as  his  head  with  a  sudden 
and  violent  attack  of  rheumatism,  so  his  wife 
stayed  at  home  to  nurse  him.  Though  Jacob 
Dene  was  a  Quaker,  a  Quaker  is  still  a  man — 
especially  a  Yorkshire  Quaker,  when  there  is  a 
horse  in  the  way — and  he  accompanied  his  wife 
and  granddaughter  to  Doncaster.  Mr.  Lyster, 
too,  escorted  Mrs.  Hollis  ;  Ealpli  Hollis  went  with 
his  friends,  Captain  Fitzherbert  and  other  plun- 
gers of  the  Forty-First  from  Barford ;  while  Jack 
and  Jabez  drove  over  together  to  catch  the  train 
at  Barnolby  Junction.  Jabez  was  for  staying  at 
home,  but,  seeing  that  Jack  was  bent  on  going,  he 
determined  to  accompany  him. 

What  a  scene  it  was,  to  be  sure,  when  they 
got  to  Doncaster  !  Train  after  train  disgorged  its 
thousands.  The  High  Street  was  crowded — 
almost  impassable.  But  the  scene  at  the  moor 
itself  baffles  description.  Life,  colour,  gaiety, 
animation  were  everywhere  ;  and  as  for  the  crowd. 


84  RACHEL  DENE. 

that  could  only  be  calculated  by  hundreds  of 
thousands. 

A  dozen  different  dialects  of  Yorkshire,  con- 
tended for  mastery  with  our  own  beloved  Cockney 
— with  Scotch,  with  Irish,  with  French,  with 
German,  and  with  shrill  American. 

The  Denes,  Rachel,  Mr.  Lystor,  and  Mrs. 
Hollis  were  in  the  front  of  the  Grand  Stand,  which 
was  thickly  packed  with  human  beings.  Save  for 
the  fact  that  a  Yorkshire  horse  was  the  first 
favourite,  our  friends  had  no  interest  beyond 
seeing  the  glorious  strife  for  victory,  and  certainly 
they  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  gentry 
below,  amongst  whom  Ealph  Hollis  and  his 
friends  were  busy  backing  the  favourite  against 
the  field. 

Hitherto,  upon  all  former  occasions,  Jack  and 
Jabez  had  been  content  to  gaze  upon  the  race  from 
the  outer  fringe  ;  to-day  they  had  sprung  a  point, 
and  paid  their  guinea  apiece  to  enter  the  charmed 
circle,  where  they  encountered  Ealph,  Fitzherbert, 
and  his  friends. 

Jabez  felt  ill-at-ease  in  such  fashionable 
society ;  so  he  made  his  way  alone  to  the  Stand. 
The  plungers  were  civil  to  Jack,  and  Ralph  gladly 
took  him  under  his  wing,  simply  to  keep  him  away 
from  Rachel. 

It  was  a  delightful  day,  and  Jack  enjoyed  the 
races.  It  was  pleasant  to  be  in  the  thick  of  the 
dazzling  scene  he  had  heretofore  contemplated 
at  a  distance — to  be  in  the  paddock,  and  to  rub 


THE   FEAST   OF  ST.    LEGER.  85 

sboulclers  with  all  the  great  people — especially  to 
be  introduced  to  the  famous  Jockey,  with  -whom 
princes  and  dukes  hobnobbed. 

By-and-by  there  was  a  hastily  improvised 
luncheon,  washed  down  by  champagne ;  and  after 
that,  a  rough-and-ready  race  inaugurated  the  day's 
carnival.  Jack  didn't  think  much  of  that ;  but 
after  it  came  more  champagne  with  cigars,  and 
soda  and  brandies  to  follow.  Then  another  descent 
into  the  ring  ;  then  another  raid  upon  the  refresh- 
ment-room, more  stimulants,  and  more  cigars — a 
great  deal  more  of  them  all  than  was  good  for  Jack 
Heywood. 

Ealph  and  his  friends  were  seasoned  vessels. 
Jack  was  unused  to  the  process,  and  it  began  to 
take  effect. 

Back  once  more  into  the  ring — back  amongst  a 
mob  of  howding  ruffians,  with  books  and  pencils  in 
their  hands,  and  blasphemy  in  their  mouths.  To 
hear  these  fellows  roar  at  each  other,  one  would 
think  Bedlam  had  broken  loose  amid  a  menagerie 
of  wild  beasts. 

Bright  and  handsome,  full  of  life  and  excitement, 
Jack  pushed  his  way  through  the  ring.  Looking 
up  towards  the  Grand  Stand,  he  saw  the  eyes  of 
Eachel  fixed  upon  him,  and  smiling  merrily,  he 
lifted  his  hat.  At  that  moment  he  felt  a  hand 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  turning  quickly,  saw  his 
foster-father. 

"  Come  away  out  0'  this,  lad,"  said  Jabez  ;  "  'tis 
no  fit  place  for  a  decent  lad.     Let's  gang  home," 


86  RACHEL  DENE, 

*'  Gang  borne !  "  echoed  Jack,  with  a  laugh,  "  and 
before  the  sport  has  half  begun  ?  Nay,  not  I ! 
Come  along  to  the  bar,  and  have  a  drink." 

Jabez  shook  his  head. 

"  Thou'st  been  tasting  already,  Jack.  Remem- 
ber what  I  told  you,  and  tak'  no  more.  If  you 
won't  gang  home,  at  least,  come  and  speak  to 
Miss  Eachol.  See,  lad,  she's  beckoning  fro'  t' 
Grand  Stand." 

Jack  looked  up  again.  Rachel  was  indeed 
beckoning,  and,  it  seemed,  to  him.  He  took  his 
friend's  arm  and  pushed  his  way  out  of  the  ring  ; 
made  the  best  of  his  way  until  he  came  close  to 
the  group  from  Deepdale. 

"  I  hope  thou  art  not  wagering  thy  money,  lad," 
said  Jacob.  ''Betting  is  a  bad  business,  and 
unworthy  of  a  decent  man." 

"  I  am  only  looking  on,  sir,"  answered  Jack. 
"Isn't  it  splendid?  They  say  the  Yorkshire 
favourite  is  to  win." 

Then  he  leant  over  and  talked  to  Rachel. 
Warmed  with  a  glass  or  two  of  wine,  he  felt  quite 
at  his  ease  and  familiar.  As  he  laughed  and 
chatted,  the  girl  looked  at  him  in  some  surprise. 
Glancing  from  his  flushed,  excited  face,  she  met 
the  sad,  wistful  eyes  of  Jabez  Pryke. 

While  this  scene  was  taking  place,  two  men 
stood  watching  it  from  the  ring.  One  was  Ralph 
Hollis ;  the  other  was  his  friend  and  boon 
companion.  Captain  Fitzherbert,  a  man  nearly 
ten  years  his   senior,   seasoned  in   all  kinds  of 


THE   FEAST  OF  ST.    LEGER,  87 

dissipation,  and  a  thorough  "plunger"  by  habit 
as  well  as  disposition.  The  Captain  was  thick-set 
and  strongly  built,  with  a  high-coloured  com- 
plexion, a  black  moustache,  black  hair,  a  little 
thin  at  the  top,  and  a  coarse,  determined  mouth. 
He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of  fashion,  sported  a 
white  hat,  and  was  literally  covered  with  jewellery. 
"Look  there,  Fitz,"  said  Ralph,  in  a  voice  thick 
with  drink ;  "  that  infernal  workman  again  talking 
to  Miss  Dene  !  They're  whispering  under  the  old 
Quaker's  very  nose.  Ever  since  the  fellow  saved 
her  life  she  has  treated  him  as  if  he  were  a 
gentleman  and  an  equal,  though,  at  the  best,  he's 
only  a  confounded   mechanic,  working   with  his 

hands." 

"Jealous,  eh?"  returned  the  Captain,  with  a 
laugh.  "  Gad,  you've  reason !  Saved  her  life, 
did  he  ?  Ah,  yes  ;  I  remember.  You  missed  your 
best  chance  there,  Ealph,  my  boy.  Women  like 
fellows  of  that  sort,  you  know.  Saved  a  woman's 
life  myself  out  in  India — widow  woman— and,  by 
George  !  she  proposed  to  me  on  the  spot.  But 
Fitz  didn't  see  it — oh,  dear,  no  !  " 

Quite  unconscious  of  Ralph's  baleful  gaze  upon 
them,  Jack  and  Eachel  continued  to  converse  in 
whispers.  Never  had  the  maiden  seemed  so 
gracious,  never  had  the  young  inventor  looked  so 

happy. 

"  D n  them  !  "  muttered  Ealph  Hollis. 

"Certainly,"  said  Fitzherbert.  "But  come 
along,  and  have  a  drink,  and  leave  them  alone ; 


88  RACHEL  DENE. 

— your  rival's  first  favourite,  and  you're 
scratched ! " 

*'  km.  I  ?  "  cried  the  young  man,  with  a  savage 
oath.  "We'll  see  about  that !  Fitz,  the  old  man 
hates  me,  and  encourages  this  fellow !  Only 
yesterday  he  took  me  aside  and  asked  me  to  take 
example  by  young  Heywood.  Fancy  that !  Take 
example  by  a  common  mechanic  !  " 

**  Humph  !  An  imcommon  mechanic,  I  should 
say.     I  rather  like  the  lad." 

"  And  I  hate  him !  There,  they're  shaking 
hands,  and  he's  coming  back  to  the  ring.  Listen 
to  me,  Fitz  !  It's  a  matter  of  life  or  death  to  me 
now  to  put  things  right  with  Rachel,  and  this  clod 
is  the  only  human  being  in  my  way." 

They  walked  away  together,  eagerly  conversing. 
Meantime,  Jack  Ileywood,  hurrying  from  Eachel's 
side,  drifted  away  with  the  crowd.  His  excitement 
had  increased  tenfold  by  the  reception  he  had  met 
with  from  the  Denes.  His  face  was  radiant ;  he 
could  have  leapt  in  the  air.  Laughing  gaily,  he 
pushed  his  way  through  the  throng,  again  entered 
the  ring,  and  at  last  came  face  to  face  with  Ealph 
Hollis  and  Fitzherbert. 

"  Ah,  Heywood,"  cried  Ealph,  smiling.  **  Better 
fun  than  the  mills,  eh  ?     Come  and  liquor  up." 

**  No,  thank  you,"  said  the  lad,  hesitating.  **  I 
promised  Miss  Dene " 

But  Ealph  Hollis  took  one  arm,  and  Fitzherbert 
took  the  other.  As  they  did  so,  thoy  exchanged  a 
Bignificant  glance, 


THE   FEAST  OF  ST    LEGER.  89 

"  Just  one  glass  !  "  said  the  Captain.  "  Come, 
we'll  toast  the  great  invention." 

Bewildered  and  excited,  Jack  suffered  himself 
to  be  led  away.  His  pride  was  flattered ;  he  felt 
himself  a  gentleman  among  gentlemen ;  and,  to 
speak  the  truth,  he  was  pleased  to  be  in  such  fine 
company.  He  glanced  round,  and  saw  no  sign  of 
Jabez,  his  self-appointed  mentor;  then,  with  a 
laugh,  he  accompanied  his  friends  to  the  refresh- 
ment-room. 

Fitzherbert  called  for  champagne.  When  the 
bottle  was  opened,  he  and  Ealph  took  care  to 
let  Jack  have  the  lion's  share.  Then,  the  lad,  not 
to  be  outdone,  insisted  on  ordering  and  paying  for 
another  bottle.  Had  he  been  a  little  sharper- 
sighted  and  more  suspicious,  he  might  have 
observed  that  his  companions,  always  exchanging 
looks  of  meaning,  spilt  the  greater  part  of  their 
wine  upon  the  grass. 

Jack  was  no  tippler  ;  a  little  wine  affected  him  ; 
and  by  this  time  he  had  drunk  a  large  quantity. 
He  began  to  talk  loudly,  and  to  clap  Fitzherbert 
oh  the  shoulder  as  he  sallied  back  into  the  ring. 

Above  the  Babel  of  sounds  could  be  heard, 
"  Two  to  one,  bar  one !  "  and  **  Fifty  to  one 
against  the  favourite  !  " 

Jack  believed  in  the  Yorkshire  horse— belief  was 
loyalty  to  his  native  county.  He  yielded  to  the 
temptation,  and,  despite  Mr.  Dene's  warning, 
began  to  bet.  Unluckily,  he  had  five  and  twenty 
pounds   about   him.      He    backed    the    favourite 


90  RACHEL  DENE, 

against  the  field,  with  the   result   that  he  lost 
his  money. 

Kalph  Hollis,  too,  was  betting  furiously,  and 
losing — indeed,  scarcely  knew  himself  what  he 
had  lost.  He  only  knew  one  thing — that  three 
weeks  ago  he  had  borrowed  two  hundred  pounds 
from  Fitzherbert,  and  that  he  had  solemnly  pro- 
mised to  pay  him  the  day  after  the  Leger ;  and, 
amidst  the  riot,  the  confusion,  and  the  pande- 
monium, ho  remembered  that  if  this  and  other 
moneys  were  not  paid  on  settling-day,  disgrace, 
ruin,  and  all  the  rest  of  it  might  follow.  But,  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  excitement,  he  still  kept  his 
eyes  fixed  on  Jack  Heywood.  His  plan  had  suc- 
ceeded to  admiration.  The  drink,  and  the  excite- 
ment, and  the  loss  had  been  too  much  for  the 
young  workman.  By  this  time  he  was  quite  drunk, 
and  very  quarrelsome. 

He  had  parted  with  his  five  and  twenty  pounds 
like  a  man,  but  the  bookmaker  insisted  that  he 
ov/ed  five  and  twenty  pounds  more,  which,  indeed, 
he  did,  through  some  bungling  in  his  betting. 

At  this  moment  Jabez  came  up. 

When  he  saw  the  state  of  affairs  he  was  ashamed, 
and,  indeed,  a  little  angered,  to  see  his  boy  in  so 
shameful  a  condition. 

"  Jabez,  old  man,"  cried  Jack,  clutching  his  arm, 
"  lend  me  five  and  twenty  pounds." 

In  his  intoxication  he  fell  back  into  broad 
Yorkshire. 

"  What  for  ?"  asked  Jabez. 


THE  FEAST  OF  ST.   LEGER,  91 

*'  Why,  yon  dog-faced  rcshil  says  I  owe  it  him, 
BO  shell  out  t'  brass." 

"  My  lad,  I  canuot.     I  havena  got  it." 

"  What !  "  cried  the  lad ;  "  art  ilioii  gone  back 
on  me  ?  Pretty  chap  thou  art  to  stand  by  a  friend 
in  a  hoyle  !  Hang  such  friends  !  Get  out  for  an 
owd  humbug ! " 

The  unhappy  lad  had  indeed  *'put  an  enemy 
into  his  mouth  to  steal  away  his  brains,"  and  he 
let  forth  a  flood  of  abuse  upon  his  friend  and  more 
than  father.  The  plungers  quite  enjoyed  the 
scene,  and  added  fuel  to  the  fire  by  some  not  par- 
ticularly elegant  chaff.  The  bookmaker  alleged 
that  he  did  not  know  Jack,  and  demanded  that  he 
should  immediately  *'pay  up." 

Jabez  demurred;  the  bookmaker  swore  that 
both  Jack  and  his  friend  were  "  nobbut,  more  or 
less,  nor  a  pair  0'  welshers  " — words  of  direful 
omen  to  a  Yorkshireman.  No  sooner  was  it  out  of 
his  lips  than  the  bookmaker  was  on  his  back,  while 
Jack  strode  over  him,  and  requested  him  to  get  up 
to  be  knocked  down  again. 

The  betting-man  responded  like  a  gamecock. 
He  was  up  in  an  instant,  and  going  for  Jack. 
They  rushed  at  each  other  like  a  pair  of  tigers, 
amidst  yells  of  encouragement  from  the  by- 
standers. 

At  the  height  of  this  scandalous  scene,  the 
Denes,  and  Eachel,  Mr.  Lyster,  and  Mrs.  Hollis, 
appeared,  passing  from  the  Grand  Stand  above. 
As  Jack  caught  sight  of  them — above  all,  when 


92  RACHEL  DENE. 

be  caught  sight  of  Eachel's  eyes — her  look  of 
astonishment  and  disgust  struck  him  -with  a 
sudden  shock  of  pain.  She  scarcely  paused  a 
moment  in  passing ;  the  next,  she  was  gone ;  but 
she  had  seen  it  all. 

As  she  passed  forth,  be  said  to  the  bookmaker, 
*'  Hold  hard.  There's  my  watch  ;  it's  worth  nearly 
all  thy  brass.     I'll  send  t'  rest  to-morrow." 

"Nay,  lad,"  replied  the  betting-man;  "I'm 
sure  thou  art  a  pluck'd  un,  and  we  Sheffield 
grinders  allays  like  a  mon  better  after  we've  fowt 
un.  My  name's  Tom  Yondal ;  I'm  to  be  found  i'  t' 
Pot  Market,  Sheffield,  any  time." 

Jack  was  angered  with  Eachel,  with  Ealph,  with 
the  bookmaker,  with  everybody — above  all,  with 
Jabez.  Had  Jabez  only  lent  him  that  twenty-five 
pounds,  this  calamity  would  not  have  occurred. 
With  the  unreasoning  fury  of  an  unaccustomed 
drunkard,  he  blamed  every  cause  but  the  right 
one.  As  he  reeled  along,  elbowing  his  way  through 
the  crowd  to  the  railway-station,  his  demeanour 
was  so  strange  and  wild  as  to  attract  universal 
attention.  He  was  so  aggressive  and  pugnacious, 
that  had  it  not  been  for  Jabez  he  would  have 
reached  the  police-station  instead  of  the  railway- 
station.  When  at  last,  however,  he  got  there,  he 
dragged  Jabez  into  the  refreshment-room,  made  a 
grab  at  a  bottle  of  champagne,  dropped  it,  and 
smashed  it  to  pieces. 

Then  he  snatched  another,  and  knocked  the 
neck  off  itj  cutting  his   hand  in  the   operation. 


THE   FEAST  OF  ST.   LEGER.  93 

Some  of  the  Deepdale  lads  were  tliere,  and  lie 
invited  them  to  join  him. 

"  Sup,  lads,  sup.  Now,  lass,"  he  continued, 
"  serve  out  some  brandy  and  soda — lots  of  it. 
That's  your  sort !  " 

Finding  it  useless  to  attempt  to  restrain  him, 
Jabez  went  to  see  if  he  could  find  the  station- 
master  to  induce  him  to  reserve  a  compartment, 
so  as  to  get  the  wretched  lad  home  without  further 
mischief.  While  bent  on  this  errand,  he  came 
in  contact  with  Jacob  Dene,  the  vicar,  and  the 
ladies. 

There  was  no  disguising  from  them  the  state  of 
affairs;  therefore,  addressing  his  employer,  Jabez 
said,  '*  I've  nowt  to  say  for  t'  poor  lad,  save  that 
he's  had  more  than  is  good  for  un,  and  that  it  has 
been  given  to  un  by  them  as  owt  to  know  better. 
He's  ne'er  bin  so  afore,  and  please  God'll  ne'er  be 
BO  agin.  He's  not  only  drunk,  but  mad — does  na 
know  what  he's  sayin'  or  doin'.  Unless  I  can  get 
him  home,  there'll  be  some  mischief  done.  Please, 
Mr.  Dene,  gie  us  a  good  word  wi'  station-master  to 
get  t'  lad  in  by  hissen  somewhere,  if  it  be  only  in 
a  horse-box." 

Angered  as  Jacob  was,  his  regard  for  Jabez  was 
so  great,  that  he  assented  to  his  wishes,  and,  at 
his  request,  the  station-master  was  induced,  with 
some  difficulty,  to  reserve  a  second-class  compart- 
ment for  Jabez,  Jack,  and  half  a  dozen  Deepdale 
lads. 

A  very  bad  time  they  had  of  it  until  they  got  to 


94  RACHEL  DENE. 

Barnolby  Junction.  Jack  qimrrellecl  with  every- 
body in  general,  but  with  Jabez  in  particular. 
Once,  indeed,  he  threatened  to  throw  him  out 
of  the  window.  Drink  had  changed  this  genial, 
gentle,  lovable  creature  from  a  man  into  a  wild 
beast. 

At  last,  his  drunken  fury  wore  itself  out  for  the 
time,  and  he  fell  into  a  stertorous  sleep,  which  for- 
tunately lasted  until  they  got  to  Barnolby  Junction. 
Then  Jabez  drove  him  down  to  the  mills,  for  he 
could  not  bear  that  Joan  should  see  the  lad  in  so 
sorry  a  condition. 

Meantime,  young  Hollis  was  being  driven  home 
from  Barford  by  Fitzherbert  in  a  high  dog-cart 
belonging  to  the  Captain.  Both  were  well  warmed 
with  wine,  and  not  a  little  excited,  for  Pialph  had 
lost  large  sums  that  day,  and  Fitzherbert  was 
clamorous  for  his  money. 

''Make  your  mind  easy,"  Ealph  said;  "I  can 
get  the  money,  and  I'll  pay  you.  After  all,  this  is 
a  good  day's  work  for  me.'" 

"  How's  that  ?  "  growled  the  officer. 

"  We  doctored  the  favourite  nicely !  Rachel 
and  the  old  man  saw  it  all.  I  don't  think  that 
young  cub  will  be  backed  for  a  place  again." 

Fitzherbert  deposited  his  friend  at  the  outskirts 
of  Deepdale,  and  then  turned  his  horse's  head 
back  towards  Barford.  It  was  now  quite  dark,  and 
not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night. 

"About  that  money?"  asked  the  Captain. 

"  You  shall  have  it.     I'll  come  over  to-morrow." 


AFTER    THE  LEGER.  95 

The  Captain  nodded,  and  drove  rapidly  awa5\ 
Ealpli  Hollis  walked  on  through  the  darkness  in 
the  direction  of  the  mill. 


CHAPTER  XL 

AFTER   THE    LEGER. 

For  some  years  past  Jabez  had  resided  per- 
manently at  the  mills.  He  had  a  small  living- 
room  in  the  front  or  main  building,  and  imme- 
diately above  the  cashier's  office.  Here  every 
night  he  slept  solitary  and  alone,  ready  for  any 
emergency  which  might  occur.  From  his  high 
window  could  be  seen,  across  a  huge  quadrangle, 
the  factories,  the  engine-rooms,  and  the  great 
warehouses  in  the  rear.  It  was  a  lonely  place  by 
night,  and  the  overseer's  life  was  lonely;  but 
Jabez  Pryke,  though  he  cared  nothing  for  books, 
had  constant  company  in  his  own  gentle  thoughts. 
His  was  an  existence  occupied  with  only  two  ideas 
— devotion  to  his  duty  as  his  master's  servant,  and 
love  for  the  child  of  the  woman  sleeping  in  the 
neighbouring  churchyard.  Among  the  treasures 
in  his  barely  furnished  room  was  a  picture  of  Jael, 
a  rude  photograph  taken  one  day  at  Barford.  It 
hung  over  his  head,  and  night  after  night  he  raised 
his  eyes  to  it  as  to  some  pictured  saint. 

On  that  eventful  night  of  the  St.  Leger,  when 
he  arrived  before  the  mills,  supporting  in  his  strong 


95  RACHEL  DENE. 

arms  the  half-insensible  form  of  his  foster-son,  he 
found  the  great  iron  gate  closed.  He  rang  the 
gate-bell,  and  the  dull  clanging  echoed  dismally 
through  the  night,  till  at  last  a  light  appeared, 
and  Joe  Styles,  the  watchman,  came,  lantern  in 
hand,  to  answer  the  summons.  Behind  him  fol- 
lowed the  great  watch-dog  Leo,  a  formidable 
mastiff-bitch. 

"Hullo,  Jabez  !  "  cried  the  watchman,  unlock- 
ing the  gate,  and  swinging  it  open.  *'  Back  at 
last?" 

"  Ay,  mate,"  answered  the  overseer.  "  Here, 
lend  a  hand,  man ;  I  want  to  take  Master  Jack  up 
to  my  room." 

"What's  the  matter  wi'  un?"  asked  Joe,  with 
a  grin.  "I  saw  un  up  at  Doncaster  flinging  t' 
brass  about  like  mad.  Ower  much  lemonade,  I 
doubt  ?  " 

"  The  lad's  ill,  very  ill.  I  canna  tak  un  home 
i'  this  state.     He's  got  to  sleep  here  i'  t'  mills." 

*'  All  reet,  Jabez,"  replied  the  watchman. 

It  was  no  easy  task  to  get  Jack  along.  He 
was  comatose,  and  though  he  moved  his  legs 
mechanically,  his  head  and  arms  swung  forward, 
and  without  powerful  assistance  he  would  have 
fallen.  But  the  two  strong  men  lifted  him  bodily, 
and  carried  rather  than  led  him  up  the  steep  stone 
stairs  till  they  reached  the  topmost  landing,  and 
drew  him  into  the  overseer's  little  room.  Then, 
while  Joe  lit  a  candle,  Jabez  placed  the  boy  in  a 
chair.    He  sat  there  with  ruffled  hair,  pallid  face, 


AFTER    THE  LEGER.  97 

and  eyes  lialf-closed,  feverishly  mutteriug  to  him- 
self. One  hand  hung  by  his  side  like  lead,  the 
other  was  thrust  into  his  breast.  The  old  watch- 
dog, who  knew  him  well,  kept  close,  and  licked  the 
hanging  hand. 

The  watchman,  a  grim,  grizzled  veteran,  stood 
looking  on,  and,  holding  up  the  lantern,  flashed 
the  light  into  his  face. 

"  Poor  lad,  he's  had  his  bellyful ! "  he  said, 
half  amused  and  half  shocked.  **  Say,  Jabez, 
Jem  Wright  t'  stoker's  sitting  out  wi'  me  i'  the 
engine-house,  and  we  ha'  a  bottle  0'  good  stuff 
yonder.     Will  ye  come  and  take  a  sup  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  cried  Jabez,  fiercely.  "  Curse  t'  drink  ! 
Curse  them  that  make  it,  and  them  that  sell  it ! 
See  what  it's  done  this  neet !  " 

**  Sure  enough ;  but  lad'll  be  reet  i'  the  morn- 

ing." 

"He'll  ne'er  be  reet  again!"  answered  Jabez, 
with  a  groan,  like  a  deep  sob.  **  Lea'  us  together ; 
I'll  stop  wi'  him,  and  put  him  to  bed." 

The  watchman  nodded,  and  left  the  room,  fol- 
lowed by  the  mastiff.  The  moment  he  had  gone, 
Jabez  turned  and  locked  the  door ;  then,  uttering 
a  low  cry,  knelt  by  the  lad's  side,  and  burst  into 
tears. 

"  Jack,  Jack,  my  lad  !  "  he  cried.  "  Won't  'ee 
speak  to  me  ?  'Tis  me — Jabez !  Look  up,  lad, 
look  up  ! " 

But  Jack  made  no  sign ;  he  still  sat  in  a  state 
of  collapse,  murmuring  vacantly  to  himself.     Then 

n 


98  RACHEL  DENE. 

tenderly,  like  a  woman,  Jabez  took  off  his  coat 
and  waistcoat,  relieved  him  of  his  necktie  and 
collar,  and,  raising  him  bodily,  placed  him  upon  the 
bed.  He  fell  there  like  a  log,  with  a  low,  suffocating 
moan. 

Jabez  bent  over  him,  and  looked  into  his  face. 

"'Tis  strange,"  he  said  to  himself;  "I  ha* 
seen  many  a  mon  o'erta'en  wi'  the  cursed  drink, 
but  ne'er  a  one  like  this  !  He's  more  like  a  mon 
death-struck  wi'  poison  !     Poor  lad  !     Poor  lad  !  " 

"Water ! "  moaned  Jack,  as  if  gasping  for 
breath. 

Jabez  moistened  his  parched  lips,  and  laid  his 
head  gently  back  upon  the  pillow.  As  he  did  so, 
he  saw  the  picture  of  Jael  hanging  over  the  head 
of  the  bed. 

"  I  promised  to  be  a  feyther  to  un,"  he  cried, 
stretching  out  his  arms  to  the  picture,  while  the 
great  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  "  and  I'll  keep 
my  word.  I  ha'  been  a  lonely  man  for  thy  sake, 
Jael,  but  now  thou  hast  gien  me  a  son — thy  living 
image,  wi'  the  same  blue  een  and  bonny  golden 
hair.  Oh,  my  lass— my  lass!  just  as  your  face 
looked  when  we  found  thee  dying  i'  t'  snow  is  t' 
lad's  this  neet !  " 

Then,  mastered  by  his  emotion,  he  sank  on 
his  knees  by  the  bedside,  and  praj^ed  aloud. 
Prayer  more  unselfish,  more  solemn  and  touching, 
never  rose  from  the  lips  of  man.  And  as  he 
prayed,  he  took  the  boy's  clammy  hand,  which 
Knig  loose  on  the  coverlet,  and  kissed  it  again  and 


AFTER    THE  LEGER,  99 

again.  In  bis  own  name,  in  the  name  of  his  ovai 
love  and  sorrow,  he  asked  God  to  pardon  the  lad 
for  his  folly  that  day ;  to  watch  over  and  preserve 
him  from  future  temptation  ;  to  keep  from  his  lips 
the  poison  of  drink;  to  strengthen  him  against 
all  evil ;  to  make  him  a  happy  man,  and  to  crown 
him  with  honour  and  prosperous  days.  Lastly, 
with  an  infinite  tenderness,  he  interceded  for  a 
happy  sequel  to  the  lad's  love  for  Eachel  Dene. 

"Lord,  Lord,  turn  not  the  lass's  heart  against 
un,  but  be  kinder  to  my  lad  than  Thou  hast  been 
to  me !  Keep  him  fro'  lonesomeness  like  mine, 
and  answer  his  prayer  wi'  life  and  love  !  " 

Strong  feeling  makes  even  rough  men  eloquent, 
and  Jabez  uttered  his  thoughts  as  if  inspired. 
Then  rising  to  his  feet,  he  looked  down  on  Jack 
with  unutterable  affection,  for  all  the  time  it  was 
still  Jael's  face  that  he  saw  before  him  now,  as  he 
had  seen  it  the  night  she  came  home  to  die. 

It  was  now  getting  late,  and  Jabez  had  still  to 
get  down  to  the  cottage,  and  break  the  news  to  the 
old  people.  So,  with  one  last  look  at  the  heavily- 
sleeping  lad,  he  left  the  room,  closing  the  door 
stiffly  behind  him. 

"  He'll  be  reet  enough  till  I  come  back,"  he 
muttered,  "  and  I'll  watch  by  his  side  all  t'  neet, 
poor  lad,  poor  lad !  'Twill  be  a  bitter  wakening 
for  him  to-morrow  morn." 

Descending  the  dark  stairs,  he  passed  the  offices 
below,  and  came  out  upon  the  courtyard,  and 
reaching  the  gate,  opened  it  with  his  master  key. 


I  DO  RACHEL  DENE. 

which  he  had  taken  down  from  a  nail  in  the  room 
above.  He  was  soon  out  in  the  open  street,  facing 
wind  and  rain,  for  it  was  a  stormy  night.  Looking 
up  at  the  mill  building  as  he  passed,  he  saw  the 
windows  all  dark  and  desolate,  and  wafted  another 
blessing  to  the  lad  lying  asleep  within. 

His  way  lay  through  the  town,  and  close  past 
the  churchyard.  As  he  passed  the  shadow  of  the 
church,  he  ran  up  against  a  man. 

"Confound  you!"  cried  a  voice;  "where  the 
deuce  are  you  rushing  ?    Who  are  you,  eh  ?  " 

"Jabez  Pryke,"  answered  the  overseer.  "Is 
it  thee,  Master  Ealph  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Where  are  you  bound  ?  " 

"Down  to  Gaffer  Heywood's  cottage,  sir." 

"I  thought  you  slept  at  the  mill,"  said  Ralph. 
"  By  the  way,  how's  young  Hopeful  ?  Have  you 
taken  him  home  ?  " 

"  Nay,  sir ;  he  be  lying  asleep  i'  my  room  at 
t'  mill.  I'm  going  to  tell  the  gaffer  where  he  is, 
and  then  come  back  and  look  after  un  till  morning." 

"I  see,"  returned  Ealph,  with  a  laugh.  "I 
say,  wasn't  he  awfully  screwed  ?  Never  saw  a  man 
so  gone  in  my  life  !     How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

"Maybe  you  can  tell  that  better  than  me,"  said 
Jabez,  significantly.  "  Though  t'  poor  lad  was 
o'erta'en,  he's  sober  and  hard-working,  and  never 
came  to  this  pass  before." 

"Well,  good  night,"  cried  Ealph,  moving  away. 

"Good  neet,"  replied  Jabez,  coldly.  "You'll 
say  nowt  o'  this  to  t'  master  ?  " 


AFTER    THE   LEGER,  loi 

"I'm  afraid  he  knows  all  about  it,  for  everybody 
saw  the  lad  in  his  mad  fit.  However,  if  I  can  put 
in  a  good  word  for  him,  I  will !  " 

Leaving  Jabez  Pryke  to  make  the  best  of  his 
way  down  to  the  cottage,  Ealph  Hollis  hurried  on 
eagerly  in  the  direction  of  the  mill.  Once  or 
twice  he  paused  and  listened,  but  everything  was 
still,  and  not  a  soul  was  in  the  street.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  reached  the  street  where  the  mill 
buildings  were  situated,  and  stood  looking  up,  as 
Jabez  had  done,  to  the  dark,  dismal  windows. 
The  light  of  the  lamp  suspended  over  the  gate  fell 
upon  his  face,  which  was  wild  and  pale  as  death. 
He  was  still  excited  with  the  drink  he  had  taken 
during  the  day,  and  he  shook  like  a  leaf. 

Drawing  a  flask  from  the  breast-pocket  of  hia 
great-coat,  he  took  a  long  draught.  Then, 
approaching  the  gate,  and  touching  it  with  his 
outstretched  hands,  he  peered  in.  All  was  dark 
and  silent.  Suddenly,  as  he  leaned  against  the 
gate,  it  opened. 

"The  gate  is  unlocked!"  he  muttered,  with  a 
low  cry  of  surprise.  "  That's  unfortunate,  but  it 
shows  the  old  fool  will  hasten  back.  If  the  thing 
is  to  be  done,  there  is  not  a  moment  to  lose  !  " 

But  his  knees  knocked  together,  and  he  trembled 
from  head  to  foot.  Another  draught  at  the  flask 
steadied  him  a  little.  For  a  minute  yet  he  stood 
hesitating. 

**  It's  sink  or  swim  !  If  I  don't  pay  up  to- 
morrow everything  will  come  out;  and  even  if  I 


102  RACHEL  DENE, 

am  discovered,  Jacob  Dene  will  never  send  me  to 
gaol.  Curse  the  money  !  but  I  must  have  it,  and 
I  know  it's  ilicre !    By  God,  I'll  do  it !  " 

He  crept  into  the  yard,  and  approached  the 
stairs  leading  to  the  cashier's  office.  He  paused 
and  listened  again;  there  was  not  a  sound,  save 
the  moaning  of  the  wind,  and  the  pattering  of  the 
rain.  Groping  his  way  up  the  stairs,  he  reached 
the  first  floor.  As  he  paused  there,  a  low  moaning 
sound  broke  upon  the  ear,  coming  from  the  rooms 
above. 

"Heywood!  I  forgot  him!'*  thought  Ralph. 
"I  must  see  if  he  is  awake;  if  he  is,  and  recog- 
nizes me,  I  can  soon  frame  an  excuse  for  being 
here." 

He  went  on  from  stair  to  stair  till  he  reached 
the  top  floor,  and  paused  outside  the  room  where 
Jack  was  lying.  He  knocked  softly;  there  was 
no  answer.  Then  he  quietly  opened  the  door,  and 
peeped  in.  Jack  lay  tossing  on  the  bed  with  his 
eyes  closed,  muttering  incoherently,  seeing  and 
hearing  nothing. 

Ealph  drew  the  door  to,  and  slipt  again  down 
the  stairs. 


(      103     ) 
CHAPTER  XII. 

JABEZ    PEYKE's   vigil. 

It  was  getting  late  when  Jabcz  Pryke  readied  the 
cottage,  but  there  was  a  light  in  the  window,  and, 
entering  without  ceremony,  he  found  the  old 
couple  sitting  up  by  the  parlour  fire.  Jasper  lay 
back  in  his  armchair,  nursing  his  gouty  knee, 
while  Joan,  spectacles  on  nose,  sat  at  the  table 
leaning  on  her  elbows,  and  reading  out  of  a  news- 
paper some  days  old.  She  looked  up  as  J-ibez 
entered,  and  greeted  him  by  name. 

"  Is  it  thee,  Jabez  ?  Welcome  back,  lad.  But 
Where's  Jack?" 

"Jack's  not  coming  home  t'  neet,"  answered 
the  overseer,  quietly.  "I  left  him  yonder  at  t' 
mill." 

"At  t'  mill!"  echoed  the  old  woman.  Then, 
startled  by  the  strange  expression  on  Jabez's  face, 
she  added,  "  Summat's  wrong.  Speak  out,  Jabez 
Pryke!" 

"  It's  nowt,  grannie ! "  he  replied,  forcing  a 
smile.  "  Come,  let  me  sit  down,  and  I'll  tell  thee 
all  about  it." 

"  Ay,  sit  down,"  said  Jasper,  hospitably.  "  Sit 
down,  lad,  and  tell  us  about  t'  Leger." 

But  as  Jabez  took  a  seat  by  the  fire,  Joan  rose 
angrily  to  her  feet. 

'•  T'  Leger  !  "  she  cried.    **  Hark  to  t'  owd  fool—- 


I04  RACHEL  DENE. 

he  thinks  o'  nowfc  but  racing  and  siccan  folly.  But 
I  want  to  hear  about  Jack.  Summat's  wrong,  I 
say.     No  humbugging,  Jabez  !  " 

"  Nay,  grannie." 

"  Thou  mayst  humbug  Jasper  theer,  but  't  won't 
do  wi'  me.  Look  me  in  t'  face,  Jabez.  AYhat's 
come  to  our  lad  ?    Where  hast  left  him  ?  " 

**  As  I  told  thee,"  answered  Jabez.  *'  At  t'  mill, 
sound  asleep  in  my  bed." 

"  And  why  hast  left  him  iliecr  ?  " 

Jabez  answered  again,  not  lifting  his  eyes. 

**Well,  then,  he  were  a  bit  lively — he  took  a 
glass  o'er  much ;  and — and — I  thought  it  best  he 
should  bide  at  t'  mill  till  he  came  to  hissen." 

Jasper  emitted  a  low  whistle,  Joan  an  indignant 
exclamation. 

^' Dnmk,  d'ye  mean?"  she  cried. 

"Well,  a  bit  excited  like,"  said  the  overseer. 
"  He  was  put  out  about  t'  favourite,  and  got 
tasting  with  his  friends,  and — and — well,  lads  will 
be  lads,  and  'tis  nobbut  once  in  t'  year." 

Though  he  forced  a  smile,  and  tried  to  speak 
lightly,  his  face  belied  his  words.  His  heart  felt 
cold  and  dead  within  him,  and  he  was  miserable 
and  ashamed.  The  old  woman,  watching  him 
keenly,  saw  that  the  affair  was  serious. 

"He  must  ha'  been  bad  indeed,"  she  cried,  "if 
he  couldna  come  home." 

Jabez  made  no  reply,  but  Jasper  here  took  up 
the  thread  of  talk. 

"Jabez  is  reet.     If  t'  lad  did  get  merry,  'tis 


JABEZ  PRYKE'S    VIGIL.  105 

nobbut  once  a  year.  Lord,  I  ba'  been  tbat  way 
my  sen,  many  a  time  !  " 

**  Jack's  not  like  //jec,"  snapped  bis  wife— 
''an  idle,  foolisb  owd  man,  thinking  0'  nowt  but 
idling  and  drinking,  and  smoking  t'  pipe  in  a 
corner." 

"  Thankee,  wife,"  returned  Jasper,  with  a  grin. 

"Nay,  Jack  comes  0'  better  stuff;  and  if  be 
were  overta'en,  there's  been  some  foul  play,  I 
wager.  Come,  Jabez  Pryke,  I'll  ha'  the  truth. 
Tell  it  out  like  a  man  !  " 

Thus  urged,  the  overseer  gave  a  somewhat  rose- 
coloured  but  fairly  truthful  account  of  what  had 
occurred ;  described  the  scene  in  the  betting-ring, 
the  meeting  with  Pachel  and  the  Denes,  the 
encounter  with  Fitzherbert  and  Ealph  Hollis,  and 
the  other  occurrences  of  that  eventful  day. 

The  moment  he  mentioned  Ealph's  name,  Joan 
interrupted  him  with  a  cry. 

''Drinking  wi' Ealph  Hollis?  Then  'tis  young 
maister's  doing !  I  was  sure  there  was  foul  play 
in't.  And  Miss  Eachel  ?  Did  she  see  him  when 
the  poor  lad  was  o'erta'en  like  that  ?  " 

"Ay,  grannie,"  answered  Jabez;  "that's  the 
worst  on't.  Miss  Eachel  seed  him,  and  so  did  all 
our  folk.  I  tried  my  beet  to  quiet  un,  but  'twas  a 
useless  job." 

"When  t'  drink's  in,  t'  wit's  out,"  observed 
Jasper,  sententiously. 

"Hold  thy  tongue!"  cried  Joan.  "Ay,  I  see 
it  all.      'Twas  Ealph  Hollis  that  made  our  lad 


io6  RACHEL  DENE. 

drink,  and  maybe  put  some  stuff  i'  the  glass  to 
steal  away  his  brains." 

"Nay,  nay,  grannie,"  said  Jabez;  "he'd  ne'er 
do  that !  " 

"  I  tell  'ee  I  know  un.  He'd  gie  his  reet  hand 
to  shame  Jack  in  Miss  Eachel's  een.  Ay,  he's 
a  bad  un,  is  Ealph  Hollis,  and  comes  o'  a  bad 
stock.  My  poor  lad!  who  ne'er  takes  a  sip  o' 
liquor  from  one  week's  end  to  'nother !  I'd  ne'er 
believe  't,  Jabez,  if  thee  hadna  said  it  wi'  thy 
own  lips." 

Poor  Jabez  heard  the  reproach,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  felt  as  if  he  had  acted  disloyal  to 
the  boy  he  loved  so  much.  Yet  what  could  he 
do?  He  was  incapable  of  a  lie,  and  he  knew, 
moreover,  that  Jack  was  sure  of  gentle  judgment, 
of  tender  sympathy  in  that  house.  And  after  all, 
as  he  had  said,  it  was  but  a  single  slip.  One  rainy 
day  does  not  make  a  flood;  and  one  escapade, 
however  wild,  would  not  convert  the  boy  into  a 
drunkard.  The  fault  could  not  be  hidden  now 
from  any  one ;  it  would  be  redeemed  by  the  future, 
and  perhaps  be  a  fruitful  warning. 

Yet  there  was  a  load  upon  his  heart  which  he 
could  not  shake  away.  The  shock  had  shaken  him 
more  strangely  than  he  ^^tl^Fav^^ought  pos- 
sible ;  the  boy's  downfall  seemed  his  own  death- 
blow. 

"  Cheer  up,"  chirped  Jasper,  "  The  lad  '11  be 
all  reet  i'  t'  morning.  Joan,  gie  Jabez  a  cup  o* 
our  ale ;  he's  soaken  wi' t'  rain." 


..# 


JABEZ  PRYKBS    VIGIL.  107 

**  Nay,  Jasper,"  returned  the  overseer  ;  *'  no  ale 
for  me.  I  shall  taste  nobbut  water  fro'  this  day, 
and  if  t'  lad's  "wise  he'll  do  t'  same." 

"Amen  to  that!"  said  Joan.  "Drink's  the 
scaith  0'  t'  world,  and  has  killed  more  brave  lads 
than  e'er  fell  i'  bloody  wars." 

Jasper  was  dying  to  know  about  the  St.  Leger, 
but  in  the  presence  of  his  wife  he  didn't  dare  to 
speak.  Fond  of  a  glass  himself,  he  thought  that 
a  precious  bit  of  trouble  was  being  made  out  of  a 
very  small  affair.  With  Joan  it  was  altogether 
different.  Through  a  grave  woman's  intuitive  per- 
ception she  knew  that  Jack's  conduct  was  at  once 
alarming  and  mysterious.  He  was  not  like  other 
lads ;  his  whole  life  had  been  one  steady  progress 
upwards,  and  though  on  one  or  two  occasions  of 
late  he  had  been  a  little  merry,  he  had  never  made 
his  folly  a  public  exhibition,  or  quite  taken  leave 
of  his  sober  senses.  She  saw,  too,  that  Jabez 
Pryke  was  deeply  agitated  and  concerned,  and  she 
suspected,  as  was  the  case,  that  he  made  the  best 
of  a  picture  necessity  compelled  him  to  draw  of 
the  lad's  escapade. 

The  worst  of  the  whole  business  was  that  the 
Denes  were  aware  of  what  had  taken  place. 
Eager  to  see  the  fulfilment  of  her  prophesies 
concerning  her  grandson  and  Eachel  Dene,  poor 
Joan  had  began  to  dread  a  castle  in  the  air.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  Rachel  had  seen  the 
young  workman  to  serious  disadvantage,  excited 
by  drink,  quarrelsome,  reckless,  transported  out 


loS  RACHEL   DENE. 

of  his  usual  gentle  self.  It  ^^'as  a  bad  day's 
business. 

Jabez  rose  to  go. 

"I'll  get  back,"  be  said.  *' I  only  came  down 
to  let  thee  know  the  lad  was  safe  wi'  me." 

"  I  ha'  a  mind  to  gang  wi'  thee,"  returned  Joan, 
sadly. 

"  Nay,  bide  here,  granny ;  he's  all  reet  in  my 
bed,  and  I'll  come  down  when  he  wakes  i'  the 
morning." 

Eager  to  prevent  even  Joan  from  seeing  her 
grandson  in  his  physical  and  moral  degradation, 
Jabez  succeeded  in  persuading  her  to  remain  where 
she  was.  Besides,  it  was  an  ugly  night,  and  it  was 
a  goodish  stretch  to  the  mill.  He  shook  hands 
with  Jasper,  and  then,  bending  over  Joan,  kissed 
her  on  the  forehead. 

"It's  nowt,  grannie,  it's  nowt,"  he  said.  "I'll 
go  bail  for  our  lad,  he'll  ne'er  forget  hissen  again ; 
and  after  all,  lads  will  be  lads." 

He  left  her  sitting  in  a  brown  study,  tears  in 
her  kindly  old  eyes,  which  were  fixed  on  the  fire. 
Was  it,  she  thought,  a  castle  in  the  air,  after 
all  ?  Was  Jack  no  hero,  and  she  no  prophetess, 
and  would  there  never  be  the  wedding  of  which  she 
had  long  dreamed  ?  Hopeful  by  nature,  and  full 
of  faith  in  human  nature,  she  soon  began  to 
brighten.  Jasper  was  right.  Jasper  had  been  no 
saint,  and  yet  he  had  been  the  best  of  husbands. 
As  for  Jack,  he  had  his  wild  oats  to  sow,  and  it 
was  just  because  he  was  so  good  that  she  had  been 


JABEZ  PRYKE'S    VIGIL.  109 

shocked  by  the  account  of  his  backsHding.  By- 
and-by,  encouraged  by  her  change  of  manner, 
Jasper  put  in  another  word,  and  this  time  his  wife 
thought  he  spoke  hke  a  sensible  man.  AVhen  they 
rose  to  go  to  bed,  they  were  both  of  a  mind.  Jack 
was  a  hero  still,  and  that  little  affair  of  the 
wedding  was  bound  to  come  right. 

Meantime  Jabez  Pryke  walked  back  to  the  town 
through  the  darkness  and  the  rain.  He  did  not 
hasten,  though  it  was  getting  very  late,  and,  full 
of  his  own  disappointment,  he  was  indifferent  to 
the  weather.  Argue  with  himself  as  he  might,  he 
could  not  shake  av/ay  the  gloom  which  oppressed 
him.  He  had  felt  more  passionately  stirred  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  but  never  so  cheerless 
and  depressed.  His  heart  was  like  lead.  Could 
it  be  that  the  shadow  of  some  dreadful  calamity 
was  already  upon  him?  If  psychology  be  true, 
that  was  possible. 

He  passed  the  churchyard,  and,  instead  of  turn- 
ing into  the  town,  walked  on  towards  The  Oaks, 
and,  full  of  some  irresistible  impulse,  looked  up  at 
the  house  of  the  Denes.  The  house  was  dark,  but 
a  light  burned  in  one  of  the  upper  windows.  A 
shadow  crossed  the  blind,  and  he  recognized  it  was 
the  shadow  of  Eachel  Dene. 

With  the  rain  streaming  upcn  his  world-worn 
face,  he  watched  the  shadow  come  and  go,  and 
prayed  that  God  might  be  pitiful,  and  not  turn  the 
maiden's  heart  against  his  boy.  He  would  have 
liked  to  enter  and  stand  before  her,  and  plead 


ixo  RACHEL  DENE. 

poor  Jack's  cause,  explaining  his  faults  away. 
His  instinct  told  him  that  she  would  be  a  partial 
listener.  He  had  more  dread  of  the  stern  old 
Quaker,  Jacob  Dene.  Proud  to  the  backbone,  and 
severe  on  human  error,  Jacob  would  be  certain  to 
take  the  worst  view  of  the  case. 

Sighing  heavily,  he  turned  back  into  the  dark- 
ness, and  walked  slowly  to  the  mill. 

Alone  in  her  chamber,  daintily  furnished  with 
every  luxury  that  love  and  wealth  can  give,  Rachel 
sat  before  her  mirror,  thinking.  Her  hair  flowed 
down  in  a  shower  of  gold  over  her  loose  dressing- 
gown,  and  her  bare  feet  were  thrust  into  satin 
slippers.  She  had  dismissed  her  maid  for  the 
night,  and  was  quite  alone. 

All  the  evening  she  had  been  distraught  and 
sad,  for  her  thoughts  had  been  constantly  with  the 
lad  who  had  once  saved  her  life.  Up  till  that  day 
she  had  thought  of  him  with  kindness,  had  been 
tender  and  grateful  to  him,  eager  for  his  success, 
hopeful  of  his  future,  but  she  had  been  unconscious 
of  any  stronger  feeling  towards  him  than  one  of 
womanly  sympathy.  Now  it  was  quite  different. 
The  very  shock  she  had  received  on  witnessing  his 
degradation  had  opened  her  eyes,  and  she  knew, 
for  the  first  time,  how  deep  a  lolace  he  had  in  her 
young  heart. 

Jacob  Dene  had  loudly  expressed  his  indignation 
— on  the  way  home,  at  the  dinner-table,  in  the 
drawing-room  after  dinner — and  she    had    been 


JADEZ  PRYKE'S    VIGIL.  \\i 

unable  to  say  a  word  in  Jack's  defence,  for  she, 
too,  in  spite  of  her  ne^Yly-discovered  affection,  was 
indignant.  She  could  not  shut  away  the  sight  she 
had  seen — the  wild,  flushed  face,  the  struggling 
form,  the  laughing  crowd,  the  whole  horrible  scene 
in  the  ring  at  Doncaster.  Even  in  his  madness, 
however.  Jack  Heywood  had  looked  a  splendid 
fellow,  and  he  had  never  seemed  so  handsome 
in  her  eyes.  Hitherto  he  had  appeared  a  little 
commonplace,  somewhat  too  uniformly  good  and 
virtuous,  with  all  the  rough  worth  and  steadiness 
of  the  dull  mechanic ;  and  Eachel,  Quakeress  as 
she  was,  and  innocent  to  the  iinger-tips,  had  been 
inclined  to  patronize  him.  Now,  he  seemed  another 
being — wickeder  and  wilder,  of  course,  and  more 
dangerous.  The  best  of  women  love  a  man  who 
can  be  reckless  upon  occasion,  and  Eachel  was  no 
exception  to  the  rule.  She  was  shocked,  she  was 
offended,  she  was  amazed,  she  was  intensely 
indignant.     But  she  was  in  love  ! 

She  sat  before  the  glass,  looking  wistfully  at 
herself,  and  thinking  it  all  over.  Her  thoughts 
went  back  to  the  time  when  she  and  Jack  were  the 
poor  siege-children,  transplanted  from  India  to 
grow  in  Deepdale.  She  remembered  Jack  as  a 
boy,  and  afterwards  as  a  bright,  handsome  lad, 
whom  she  had  almost  looked  upon  as  a  brother. 
All  along  she  had  been  conscious  of  his  timid 
worship ;  but  never  until  to-day  had  she  realized 
the  sentiment  which  had  been  slowly  growing  in 
her  own  heart.     The  dawning  of  love  in  a  young 


113  RACHEL  DENE. 

maid's  heart  is  like  the  rosy  flush  of  sunrise  on 
a  summer  dawn,  when  the  leaves  stir,  the  birds 
begin  to  sing,  and  the  air  is  full  of  a  dewy  sense 
of  joy.  Full  of  her  own  loveliness,  the  warmth 
of  her  own  life,  she  felt  her  indignation  die  away 
in  a  new  sense  of  luxur}'^,  of  yearning.  She  would 
have  liked  to  have  gone  to  Jack  that  very  minute, 
and  comforted  him,  and  made  him  promise  never 
to  go  wrong  again.  He  was  so  bright,  so  clever  ; 
the  world  was  beginning  so  well  for  him ;  and  yet 
he  was  in  trouble.  Love  and  pity  struggled  within 
her,  and  for  the  time  being,  in  spite  of  moral 
indignation,  in  spite  of  surprise  and  sorrow,  the 
lad's  cause  was  won. 

"  How  foolish  I  am  !  "  she  thought.  "  I  ought 
to  be  very  angry,  for  he  looked  dreadful,  and  'tis 
a  shame  indeed  to  see  a  man  so  degrade  himself 
before  the  world.  I  thought  him  so  gentle  and 
quiet,  too  !  No  wonder  grandpapa  was  shocked ! 
When  I  see  Jack  he  shall  know  that  I  am  very 
angry!" 

But,  in  a  little  while,  she  smiled  at  herself  in 
the  glass,  and  murmured,  softly,  "  Poor  fellow !  " 


(      113     ) 
CHAPTER  XIII. 

UP   AT    THE    MILL. 

The  rain  was  falling  fast,  and  Joe  Styles,  the 
^vatcllmau,  after  taking  bis  accustomed  rounds, 
which  he  did  every  two  hours,  was  sitting  in  the 
engine-room,  smoking  his  pipe,  and  playing  a 
hand  at  cribbage  with  Jem  Wright,  the  stoker, 
who  was,  of  course,  off  duty.  The  watch-dog,  Leo, 
lay  fast  asleep  at  his  master's  feet. 

Both  Styles  and  Wright  had  been  to  pay  their 
respects  at  the  shrine  of  St.  Leger,  and  were  full 
of  the  events  of  the  day. 

Both  had  lost  in  the  mill  sweepstakes,  and  both 
were  considerably  vexed  at  the  defeat  of  the 
favourite.  They  kept  a  pretty  sharp  look-out  on 
the  game,  though,  and  it  was  only  during  the 
intervals  of  dealing  that  they  compared  notes. 

"Well,  well,"  observed  Styles;  "hasn't  Jack 
Hey  wood  got  his  cargo  aboard  !  " 

"  I  never  heerd  o'  un  i'  that  way  afore,"  replied 
Wright. 

"  Nor  I  either.  He'll  ha'  an  awful  head  on  him 
i'  t'  mornin'.  It's  nowt  to  say  he  was  screwed; 
he  was  clean  daft.  Well,  t'  lad  will  be  sore  'shamed 
o'  hissen  to-morrow — that  is,  if  he  remembers  owt 
about  it.  First  game  to  me,  Jem.  It's  thy  deal, 
lad.  Gie  us  a  bit  o'  baccy  while  I  mek  cards  for 
thee." 

At  this  moment  the  clock  struck  twelve. 


114  RACHEL   DENE, 

Just  upon  the  last  stroke  Jabez  reached  the  mill. 
As  he  got  outside  the  quadrangle,  looking  up,  he 
saw  a  light  in  the  counting-house. 

Now,  a  light  there  after  business  hours  was 
unusual,  hut  a  light  there  at  midnight  was  extra- 
ordinary'. 

"  It  canna  be  Styles,"  muttered  Jabez  ;  "  he  has 
no  means  o'  gettin'  in.  Except  t'  gaffer,  no  one 
has  the  pass-key— nobbut  mysen." 

Quick  as  lightning  it  flashed  through  his  mind 
that  many  heavy  remittances  had  arrived  by  that 
morning's  post,  and  that,  in  consequence  of  every- 
body hurrying  off  to  Barnolby  to  catch  the  train, 
they  might  not  have  been  paid  into  the  bank. 

"Anyhow,"  he  continued,  "the  safe's  all  reet, 
for  I've  got  t'  key  here  i'  my  pocket." 

To  his  horror,  he  found  that  he  had  lost  his 
bunch  of  keys. 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  that,  in  his  haste  to  get 
away— for  Jack  was  dreadfully  afraid  they  would 
miss  the  train — he  had  left  the  keys  behind  him. 

For  a  moment  the  thought  paralyzed  him.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  had  been  guilty  of  a  criminal 
negligence,  amounting  almost  to  a  breach  of  trust. 
Suppose  a  robber,  a  burglar,  should  have  found 
his  way  to  the  counting-house  ? 

He  grasped  his  stick  firmly,  and  disappeared 
rapidly  down  the  passage  which  led  to  the  con- 
geries of  offices  amongst  which  the  counting-house 
was  situated.  Without  thinking  of  alarming  the 
watchman,  he  passed  alone  up  the  stairs. 


UP  AT   THE   MILL.  115 

Meanwhile,  fortune  had  been  favourable  to  Jem 
Wright  in  the  contest  at  cribbage,  which  was  still 
going  on  at  the  engine-house. 

**  Fifteen  two,  fifteen  four,  fifteen  six,  a  pair's 
eight,  a  pair's  ten,  and  one  for  his  nob's  eleven. 
Game,  Joe." 

**  Well,  that's  game  and  game ;  now  for  the 
conqueror,  and  I'll  gang  home.  Tak'  three  while 
I  deal." 

As  Styles  proceeded  to  deal  the  cards,  a  loud 
cry,  loud  like  a  human  cry,  startled  the  players  to 
their  feet.  It  startled  the  dog,  too,  who  leaped  up, 
emitting  a  fierce  growl. 

"  Jem,"  said  Styles,  dropping  the  cards,  "  there's 
murder  goiu'  on  somewhere,  lad  !  " 

"It's  a  man  a-callin',"  responded  the  other. 
"If  it  had  been  a  woman,  now,  I'd  ha'  thowt 
nought  about  it.  Happen  some  chap  might  ha' 
been  purrin'  her  a  bit  to  keep  her  in  order,  and 
they  wenches  are  apt  to  cry  out  afore  theer 
hurt !  " 

Again  came  the  cry,  this  time  shriller  than 
before  ;  again  Leo  growled  ominously. 

"  It's  in  t'  mill,  lad  !  Bear  a  hand,  and  stir  thy 
stumps,"  said  Styles ;  "  and  bring  wi'  thee  yon 
crowbar — it  may  be  useful." 

So  saying,  they  started  for  the  front  side  of  the 
mill — the  side  from  whence  the  sounds  arose. 
They  reached  the  quadrangle.  Once  more  came 
the  voice,  getting  feebler  and  feebler  still. 

f*  Sure  as  death,"  said    Styles,  "that's  Jabez 


ii6  RACHEL  DENE. 

Pryke's  voice,  if  ever  Jabez  spoke.    Let's  put  on 
steam,  or  we  may  be  too  late." 

As  they  rapidly  crossed  the  quadrangle,  they 
heard  above  them  the  tramp  of  struggling  feet,  the 
noise  of  furniture  being  overturned,  and  of  men 
engaged  in  a  deadly  strife. 

Looking  up,  they  saw,  in  a  confused  mass,  the 
shadows  of  two  struggling  human  figures  cast  upon 
the  lighted  window-blind  of  the  counting-house. 
Evidently  two  men  were  intertwined  together  in  a 
death-struggle. 

The  watchers  stood  paralyzed  for  a  moment; 
but  as  the  dog  leaped  up,  barking  furiously,  the 
shadows  melted  away  like  a  dissolving  view.  Then 
they  took  a  new  shape.  One  figure  stood  erect 
and  alone,  with  arms  thrust  forth  in  defence  or 
defiance,  while  the  other,  recoiling  from  the  fierce 
impact,  staggered  backward,  and  vanished  from 
view.  Simultaneously  arose  a  terrible  sound — a 
shrill,  piercing  cry,  like  that  of  a  dying  horse  in 
the  last  moments  of  its  agony,  when  torn  to 
pieces  by  shot  or  shell  upon  some  bloody  battle- 
field; then  came  the  dull,  heavy  thud  of  a 
falling  body,  then  silence,  for  even  the  dog 
trembled  and  crouched  in  terror  at  his  master's 

heel. 

The  weird  phantasmagoria  we  have  endeavoured 
to  describe  barely  occupied  thirty  seconds;  but 
Buch  seconds  ! 

As  the  solitary  figure  above  stood  erect  and 
motionless,  with  arms  uplifted,  a  colossal  silhouette 


UP  AT   THE   MILL.  117 

of  despair,  or  remorse,  or  both,  the  watchman  and 
the  stoker  had  arrived  beneath  the  window. 

The  one  took  out  his  revolver  and  examined  it 
carefully  in  the  moonlight,  and  grasped  Leo  by 
the  collar,  while  the  other  shouldered  his  crowbar, 
and  both  men  and  dog  disappeared  noiselessly  up 
the  dark,  tortuous  passage  before  them. 

It  took  them  a  minute  or  two  to  thread  their 
way  through  the  darkness  before  they  could  reach 
the  corridor  on  the  first  floor,  where  they  were 
brought  to  a  halt  by  the  sound  of  a  voice  exclaim- 
ing, in  agonizing  tones,  *'0h,  Jabez,  Jabez,  'tis  I 
who  have  killed  thee  !  " 

At  the  sound,  the  mastiff  struggled  to  get  free. 

Eeleasing  him.  Styles  said,  "  Good  lad,  go  for 
un  !     Hi,  lad,  go  !  " 

Growling  fiercely,  with  eyes  aflame,  and  bristling 
hair,  the  dog  sprang  into  the  counting-house. 

The  men  without  waited  anxiously  for  what 
might  come,  for,  when  roused,  Leo  was  a  ferocious 
brute.  To  their  astonishment  his  yells  of  defiance 
subsided  into  a  howl  so  pathetic,  that  it  reminded 
Joe  (who  had  served  in  the  constabulary  in  the 
sister  isle)  of  the  plaintive  wailing  of  women  at  an 
Irish  keening. 

They  stayed  to  hear  no  more,  but  burst  into  the 
room. 

What  a  sight  it  was  that  met  their  eyes  ! 

The  safe,  thrown  wide  open,  appeared  to  have 
been  rifled;  the  cash-box  lay  overturned  on  the 
floor,  and  its  contents  —  coin,  drafts,  and  bank- 


ii8  RACHEL  DENE. 

notes  —  were  scattered  in  reckless  confusion  in 
every  direction ;  the  scanty  furniture  was  over- 
turned and  broken;  while  midst  the  debris,  with 
white  face,  and  glaring  eyes,  and  gashed  temples, 
lay  Jabez  Pryke,  stone  dead,  in  a  pool  of  blood. 

Over  the  body  stood  Jack  Hey  wood. 

He  was  half  dressed,  and  seemed  wholly 
demented. 

His  shirt  and  his  hands  were  bedabbled  with 
blood,  his  hair  stood  up  erect,  and  his  eyes  were 
starting  from  his  head.  The  dog  lay  whining  and 
shivering  at  his  feet ;  while,  utterly  regardless  of 
the  men's  appearance.  Jack  continued  to  bewail 
the  murdered  man,  with  tears  and  cries,  and  sobs 
of  half-stupefied  remorse. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  obtain  any  coherent  or 
rational  statement  from  him,  Styles  despatched 
the  stoker  to  ring  the  alarm  bell,  while  he,  still 
gripping  his  revolver,  continued  to  mount  guard. 
A  minute  afterwards  the  bell  rang  out  through  the 
storm,  startling  hill  and  dale. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

THE    DEAD    MAN. 

The  bell  rang  out  in  the  night,  high  above  the 
shrill  crying  of  the  wind,  startling  every  dwelling 
in  Deepdale,  and  sounding  far  away  across  the 
lonely  rain-beaten  moor.     In  an  incredibly  short 


THE  DEAD  MAN,  iiQ 

space  of  time  the  streets  and  lanes  were  thronged 
with  masses  of  people  surging  towards  the  mill  in 
a  murmuring  stream. 

"  What's  t'  matter  ?  "  "  Hast  t'  reservoir  bust 
up  at  t'  head,  or  is  t'  mill  afire?"  ''Who's 
ringing  t'  bell  ?  "  "  Hark  yonder  !  "  "  This  way 
— this  way !  "  were  some  of  the  cries  that  rose 
upon  the  night. 

The  throng  swept  in  at  the  mill  gate,  and  filled 
the  great  quadrangle.  Men,  women,  lads  and 
lasses,  little  children,  confusedly  mixed  together. 
They  saw  with  wonder  the  lights  in  the  upper 
windows  of  the  main  building ;  they  heard  the  bell 
shrieking  high  above  them ;  and  while  the  rain 
swept  down  upon  them,  and  the  wind  moaned, 
they  were  moving  towards  the  passage  leading 
upward,  when  the  bell  suddenly  ceased,  and  the 
figure  of  the  stoker  appeared  before  them  crying, 
*'  Silence  !  keep  back,  lads  !  "  And  in  answer  to 
their  questioning  cries,  he  added,  "It's  murder, 
lads  !     T'  overseer's  Ij^ing  up  yonder,  dead !  " 

Then,  in  spite  of  his  warnings,  they  flocked  up 
the  stair,  and  the  foremost  among  them  rushing 
into  the  room,  saw  Jack  Heywood  standing  over 
the  overseer's  dead  body  moaning  and  wailing, 
while  the  dog  crouched  at  his  feet,  and  the  watch- 
man looked  on  aghast.  From  those  who  crowded 
into  the  room,  to  those  who  ranged  outside,  from 
the  counting-house  to  the  quadrangle,  from  the 
quadrangle  to  the  street,  and  on  through  the  little 
town,  the  news  spread  like  wild-fire.     Murder  had 


120  RACHEL  DENE. 

been  done !  Jabez  Pryke  bad  been  killed  up  at 
tbe  mill,  and  young  Jack  Heywood  had  been  taken 
almost  red-banded  in  the  act. 

Had  he  been  any  other  than  Jack  Heywood  he 
would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  mob ;  but 
he  was  too  well  known  and  too  beloved,  and  those 
who  knew  them  could  scarcely  believe  their  eyes 
or  ears.  So,  when  the  constables  appeared  pushing 
their  way  through  the  throng,  and  had  their  hands 
upon  him,  there  was  a  murmur  of  wonder,  almost 
of  indignation.  Eapidly  and  breathlessly  the 
watchman  panted  out  his  story,  and  told  all  that 
he  had  heard  or  seen.  Jack  listened  as  if  dazed, 
but  when  the  constables  seized  him  he  uttered  a 
shriek,  and  tried  to  tear  himself  free. 

At  this  juncture  Jacob  Dene  ai)peared,  looking 
white  and  stern.  Told  the  whole  terrible  truth, 
he  gazed  at  the  wretched  lad,  saying,  "I  warned 
thee,  Jack  Heywood.  This  comes  of  the  drink 
that  made  thee  mad  at  Doncaster.  Thou  hast 
slain  thy  best  friend." 

"Jabez,  Jabez  !  "  shrieked  Jack,  gazing  in  horror 
and  despair  on  the  dead  man. 

There  was  no  doubt;  he  was  dead  indeed.  A 
doctor,  summoned  in  haste,  pronounced  life  to  bo 
quite  extinct.  Horrified  and  awe-stricken,  the 
crowd  looked  on,  while  the  constables  handcuffed 
their  prisoner,  in  spite  of  his  appealing  cries. 

Suddenly  there  came  another  sound,  the  shriek 
of  a  woman.  Wild,  ghastly,  tottering,  Joan 
Heywood  pushed  her  way  into  the  counting-house 


THE  DEAD   MAN.  121 

like  one  demented;  but  when  she  saw  the  man, 
who  had  parted  from  her  full  of  lusty  life  only  an 
hour  before,  lying  dead  upon  the  floor ;  when  she 
beheld  the  other,  whom  she  loved  dearer  than  her 
own  life,  standing  there  with  hair  and  hands 
bedabbled  with  blood,  she  fell  wailing  upon  her 
knees,  and  with  outstretched  arms  besought  her 
grandson  to  prove  his  innocence  of  a  crime  so 
hideous.  Dazed  and  stupefied.  Jack  ceased  to 
struggle,  and  looked  at  her  wildly ;  then,  with  a 
mad  cry,  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  and  sobbed 
aloud. 

That  night  was  one  long  remembered  in  Deep- 
dale.  Men  and  women  thronged  the  streets  till 
daybreak,  discussing  the  terrible  event.  Hitherto, 
in  that  happy  valley,  crime  of  any  serious  kind 
had  been  almost  unknown ;  and  now,  for  the  first 
time,  the  peaceful  spell  was  broken  by  a  deed  so 
horrible,  so  infamous,  as  almost  to  transcend  belief. 

Meantime  Ralph  Hollis  had  let  himself  in  with 
his  latchkey,  and  gone  to  bed  at  once.  When  the 
news  of  the  murder  reached  the  Vicarage,  as  it  did 
before  many  hours  had  passed,  Mrs.  Hollis  tried 
her  son's  door  and  found  it  locked;  then  she 
knocked  softly,  but  received  no  reply. 

"Poor  lad,  he  is  tired  out!"  she  said.  "Let 
him  rest  till  the  morning — it  will  be  time  enough 
to  tell  him  then." 

But  Ralph  Hollis  knew  too  well  alrcad3\  Crouch- 
ing in  his  chamber,  he  had  heard  the  tolling  bell. 


132  RACHEL   DENE. 

the  tumult,  the  alarm ;  and  peering  from  his 
window  he  saw  the  lights  moving  about  the  town, 
and  the  whole  place  awake.  Towards  daybreak 
he  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep,  broken  by  bad  dreams. 
He  was  awakened  by  a  knocking  at  his  door,  and 
opening  his  eyes,  saw  the  daylight  streaming  in  at 
the  window. 

"  Ealph !  "  cried  his  mother's  voice.  "  Are  you 
awake?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

**  There  has  been  murder  at  the  mill.  Jabez 
Pryke,  the  overseer,  has  been  killed  by  young 
Hey  wood.     Get  up  at  once  !  " 

He  heard  her  descend  the  stairs,  and  staggered 
from  his  bed,  his  eyes  wild,  his  face  blanched  and 
terror-stricken.  Instinctively  he  moved  to  the 
glass,  and  shuddered  at  the  reflection  mirrored 
there.  His  head  went  round,  his  brain  was  still 
full  of  the  fumes  of  drink,  and  he  could  hardly 
realize  what  had  occurred.  When  he  did  so,  he 
sank  as  if  paralyzed  on  his  knees  by  the  bedside, 
and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.  Nearly  an  hour 
passed  thus,  when  he  was  disturbed  by  a  second 
knocking  at  his  door,  and  started  up,  trembling 
like  a  leaf. 

"  Ealph,  are  you  ready  ?  "  cried  the  voice. 

"I  am  dressing,  mother  !  " 

His  parched  and  bloodless  lips  could  hardly 
frame  the  words. 

"  Let  me  in  !     I  mmt  speak  to  you  !  " 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  conquering 


THE  DEAD  MAN.  123 

himself  with  an  effort,  he  opened  the  door.  To 
his  surprise,  his  mother,  scarcely  looking  into  his 
face,  threw  her  arms  wildly  around  his  neck. 

"Mother,  is  it  true,"  he  gasped,  "that  the 
overseer " 

"Yes,  he  has  been  murdered,  and  the  whole 
place  is  in  alarm ! "  she  replied.  Then,  looking 
into  his  face  and  seeing  it  so  white  and  bloodless, 
she  added,  "  No  wonder  you  are  horrified  !  It  is 
terrible  !  Young  Heywood  did  it,  and  has  been 
arrested ! " 

"  My  God !  "  he  murmured. 

"  But  it  is  not  that  which  has  brought  me  back 
again.  Oh,  Ealph !  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry,  for 
Algy,  but  I  cannot  forget  that  he  was  always  so 
unkind  to  you,  my  darling!  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  cried  Ralph, 

"  Eead  that !  "  she  answered,  putting  a  telegram 
into  his  hand.  With  eyes  dim,  and  head  swimming 
round,  he  read  as  follows : — 

"  To   Ralph,  Earl  of  Beauchamp,  the  Vicarage, 
Deepdale. 

"My  Lord, 

"Y'our  uncle   died   this   morning,   at 
two  o'clock.     I  await  your  lordship's  commands. 

"Richard  Barkins." 


124  RACHEL  DENE, 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    INQUEST. 

Although  Jack  Heywood  was  a  general  favourite, 
opinion  at  the  moment  of  his  arrest  was  much 
divided  against  him.  For  the  news  had  spread 
everywhere  of  the  fight  at  Doncaster ;  of  the 
violent  altercation,  and  the  yet  more  violent 
threats  uttered  against  Jahez  in  Jack's  drunken 
frenzy  during  the  homeward  journey ;  of  the  sus- 
picious circumstances  under  which  he  was  found 
with  the  murdered  man ;  and,  lastly,  of  his  own 
self-uphraidings  and  self-accusations. 

Despite  all  this,  there  were  two  or  three  women 
who  believed  in  the  lad's  innocence,  as  trul}^  as 
they  believed  in  the  justice  of  Heaven. 

"Were  they  to  lay  down  a  pack  o'  Bibles,  and 
swear  he  did  it,  I  wouldn't  believe  'em  !  My  own 
heart  knows  my  boy  is  innocent !  "  sturdily  declared 
Joan  Heywood.  And  Eachel  ?  When  Jacob  Dene 
alleged  that  Jack  was  guilty,  she  said,  quietly, 
"Grandpa,  if  that  is  thy  opinion,  we  need  not 
discuss  the  matter  any  further.  I've  known  Mr. 
Heywood  from  childhood,  and  know  that  he  is  not 
capable  of  an  act  so  wicked." 

"  I  believe  the  child  is  right,"  chimed  in  Mrs. 
Dene. 

"  I  hope  it  may  prove  so,"  rejoined  Jacob ;  "  but 
things  look  black  against  him." 


THE  INQUEST.  123 

Meanwhile  the  body  of  the  murdered  man  had 
been  left  alone,  while  Jack  was  also  put  under 
lock  and  key  at  the  Bound  House;  nor  was  ho 
alone  either,  for  even  the  autocrat  of  Deepdalo 
could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  say  nay  to  Joan 
Heywood's  request  to  be  permitted  to  stay  with 
her  grandson. 

The  poor  soul  watched  over  his  fevered  sleep 
for  the  night,  and  administered  such  homely 
remedies  as  her  own  experience  might  suggest,  or 
Doctor  Whitaker's  skill  prescribe,  but  administered 
them  in  vain,  for  as  yet  the  wretched  lad  lay  void 
of  sense  and  motion,  almost  of  life. 

When  he  returned  to  consciousness,  and  found 
himself  in  the  Bound  House,  he  could  not  compre- 
hend what  had  brought  him  there  ;  or  why  his 
head  was  splitting,  his  throat  parched  and  swollen, 
and  his  whole  body  a  burning  fire.  As  yet  he 
could  not  form  his  thoughts  into  shape ;  indeed, 
he  had  no  clear  recollection  of  anything  which 
had  occurred  after  the  affair  in  Doneaster.  The 
drink  which  in  the  first  instance  had  maddened 
him,  in  the  second  had  stupefied  his  senses  into 
oblivion. 

After  vainly  trying  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion 
whether  he  w^as  awake  or  dreaming,  he  turned  and 
caught  sight  of  Joan  Hey  wood. 

Starting  up,  he  tried  to  speak ;  but  he  was 
unable  to  articulate  a  syllable. 

As  he  fell  back,  he  pointed  to  his  choking  throat, 
and  Joan  quickly  brought  him  some  water. 


135  RACHEL  DENE. 

When  he  had  allayed  his  raging  thirst  ho 
gasped,  "What's  come,  granny?  and  why  am  I 
here  ?  " 

"They  brought  thee  here  last  neet,  lad,"  she 
answered  sadly. 

"What  for?" 

**I  canna  tell  thee." 

*'  Canna  tell,  canna  tell !  Surely  it's  not  for 
punchin'  that  thief  s  head  at  Doncaster  ?  Don't 
cry,  granny,  don't  cry,  but  send  for  grandad  and 
Jabez  to  get  mc  out  of  this  rat-trap." 

"Jabez,  lad,  Jabez,"  moaned  the  old  woman; 
"  woes  me,  poor  Jabez  !  " 

And  she  broke  down  utterly. 

There  was  no  help  for  it;  he  must  know  all. 
Better  that  he  should  learn  it  from  her  than  from 
his  gaoler. 

When  at  length  the  truth  was  borne  in  upon 
the  wretched  lad's  mind,  his  amazement  and 
consternation  were  only  equalled  by  his  grief. 
At  first  the  thing  appeared  too  monstrous,  too 
incredible  for  belief.  Yet,  even  as  she  spoke,  he 
saw,  or  seemed  to  see,  as  if  in  some  awful  vision, 
the  white  face  of  Jabez,  the  staring  eyes,  the  pool 
of  blood,  the  open  safe,  the  rifled  cash-box,  and  the 
dog  crying  at  his  feet. 

Could  it  be  possible  that,  in  the  delirium  of 
drink,  he  had  dared  to  lift  his  parricidal  hand 
against  his  friend,  his  more  than  father  ?  If  he 
knew  himself,  that  could  never  be,  for  truly  he 
would  gladly  have  laid  down  his  own  life  for  Jabez 


THE   INQUEST.  127 

Pryke.  But,  alas !  he  knew  also  that  yesterday 
he  was  not  himself ! 

Catching  sight  of  his  blood-stained  linen,  and 
his  bloody  hands,  he  flung  himself  on  the  ground 
in  an  agony  of  grief.  His  tears,  his  cries,  his 
inarticulate  expressions  of  anguish,  pierced  the 
poor  grandam's  heart.  She  tried  to  soothe  him, 
but  in  vain ;  he  was  inconsolable.  Under  any 
circumstances,  the  loss  of  Jabez  would  have  been 
one  of  the  greatest  calamities  which  could  have 
befallen  him  ;  but  to  lose  him  under  such  circum- 
stances was  beyond  horror.  He  tried  to  think,  to 
recall  what  had  happened;  but  some  connecting 
link  of  memory  was  gone  altogether,  or,  at  any 
rate,  refused  to  cohere.  How  came  he  at  the  mill 
at  all  ?  That  was  the  very  first  question  he  asked 
himself;  but  he  was  unable  to  answer  it.  When 
Joan  explained  that  Jabez  had  taken  him  there, 
he  had  not  the  faintest  recollection  of  the  occur- 
rence. The  pressure  on  his  nerves  was  so  great, 
the  charge  against  him  so  awful,  the  crime  itself 
BO  foul,  strange,  and  unnatural,  that  the  bare 
thought  of  it  drove  him  to  despair. 

"  Oh,  grannie,  grannie,"  he  cried,  *'  you  know 
I  couldiia  do  it ;  my  arm  would  have  rotted  from 
my  body  first !  But  could — oh,  could  I,  while  that 
infernal  poison  was  working  i'  my  brain — could 
I  have  been  so  mad,  so  wicked,  as  to  lift  my  hand 
against  him  ?  Oh,  that  I  were  dead !  God  knows 
I  would  have  died  fifty  times  over  for  his  sake.  Oh, 
Jabez,  Jabez,  my  dear  old  dad — my  dear  old  dad  ! " 


128  RACHEL  DENE. 

Joan  tried  by  every  means  in  licr  power  to 
awaken  his  dormant  memory  and  to  supply  the 
missing  link,  but  in  vain. 

Meanwhile,  the  sad  news  had  an  unlooked-for 
effect  on  Jasper  Heywood,  for  it  cured  his  rheu- 
matics like  magic. 

Jumping  out  of  bed,  he  roared,  "  It's  a  lie— a 
lie  of  the  devil's  own  making  !  An'  Jabez,  too- 
dear  old  Jabez  !  Why,  t'  lad  wouldn't  'a  harmed 
a  hair  o'  his  head!  He  loved  un  too  well  for 
that !  " 

With  that  he  scrambled  into  his  clothes,  and, 
regardless  of  his  rheumatism,  ran  up  the  valley  to 
the  Eouud  House  like  a  two-year-old. 

Throwing  his  arms  round  Jack,  he  cried,  "  Cheer 
up,  lad— cheer  up  !  If  all  t'  saints  in  t'  calendar 
were  to  come  back  to  life  and  swear  they  seed  it, 
I'd  tell  'em  they  were  liars!  /And  a  thief,  too! 
Why,  dang  un,  theer  never  was  a  thief  i'  t'  family, 
from  curfew  time  upwards !  As  for  brass,  why, 
we've  gotten  enow,  and  to  spare  !  Go  thy  ways, 
owd  woman,  to  Barford,  and  see  owd  Grainger,  t' 
lawyer,  and  tell  un  to  come  here  and  stand  up  for 
Jack  at  crowner's  'quest.  Go  at  once,  lass,  and 
I'll  stay  here  and  blow  a  bit  o'  baccy  wi'  t'  lad." 

Without  another  word,  Joan  went  off  to  Barford 
to  retain  the  solicitor,  while  Jasper  tried  to  cheer 
up  his  unfortunate  grandson. 

At  the  post-mortem  examination  it  was  discovered 
that  Jabez's  skull  was  badly  fractured,  and  that 


THE  INQUEST.  129 

the  temporal  artery  of  the  right  temple  had  been 
severed  as  clearly  as  if  it  had  been  cut  in  two 
with  a  lancet. 

When  the  inquest  took  place  the  next  day,  the 
jury,  after  hearing  the  evidence  of  Stokes  and 
"Wright,  at  the  coroner's  direction,  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  returned  a  verdict  of  "Wilful 
murder  "  against  Jack,  who  was  that  night  trans- 
ferred to  Barford.  When  brought  before  the 
stipendiary,  Grainger,  the  solicitor,  alleging  that 
he  had  not  yet  had  time  to  consult  his  client, 
requested  a  remand,  which  was  granted  to  that 
day  week. 

Barford  Gaol  was  not  Deepdale  Eound  House  ; 
and  when,  after  a  painful  parting  with  his  grand- 
father and  grandmother,  Jack  was  consigned  to 
his  solitary  cell,  he  appeared  quietly  but  utterly 
demented. 

The  mystery  and  the  horror  of  the  thing 
increased  day  by  day,  and  no  single  ray  of  light 
appeared  to  illumine  the  darkness  which  enshrouded 
it.  Up  at  the  Oaks,  and  down  at  the  cottage,  and 
through  the  whole  valley  of  Deepdale,  men's  minds, 
and  women's,  too,  were  occupied  with  nothing  else. 
The  men  saw  the  case  with  their  heads,  and  they 
were  reluctantly  compelled  to  arrive  at  the  conclu- 
sion that,  in  a  fit  of  mad  drunkenness,  Jack  had 
done  the  deed.  The  women,  who  saw  only  with 
their  hearts,  refused  to  believe  that  it  was  pos- 
sible for  him,  under  any  circumstances,  to  kill 
the   man   he   loved    so   dearly.     Both   men   and 

K 


I30  RACHEL  DENE. 

women  sympathized  with  the  unhappy  lad  in  his 
tribulation. 

As  for  Eachel,  angry,  ashamed  as  she  was  at  the 
disreputable  scene  in  Doncaster,  she  never  beheved 
for  an  instant  that  his  was  the  hand  that  struck 
the  blow. 

Jacob  Dene  and  the  vicar  were  both  puzzled  at 
the  commission  of  such  a  crime  in  the  absence  of 
all  motive.  Their  opinions,  however,  underwent  a 
change  in  consequence  of  a  piece  of  evidence  which 
transpired  at  the  next  examination.  The  betting 
man  from  Sheffield,  reading  an  account  of  "  The 
Deepdale  Mystery "  in  the  Yorkshire  Post,  con- 
cluded to  make  tracks  for  Barford,  to  see  if  there 
was  any  chance  of  "  copping  "  that  five  and  twenty 
pounds  which  Jack  had  omitted  to  send  him. 

Now,  it  must  be  premised  that,  after  repeated 
consultations  with  his  client,  Mr.  Grainger  could 
make  neither  head  nor  tail  of  his  case.  The 
evidence  for  the  prosecution  commenced  with  the 
statement  of  the  Deepdale  lads  who  had  accom- 
panied prisoner  and  deceased  from  Doncaster. 
They  testified  to  prisoner's  mad  demeanour,  his 
violence,  his  abuse,  and  his  threats.  Then  came 
the  watchman  and  the  stoker ;  and,  lastly,  to  the 
astonishment  of  everybody,  Mr.  Thomas  Yondal. 

That  worthy  had  made  some  inquiries  of  the 
chief  constable,  with  the  result  that,  almost  before 
he  knew  where  he  was,  he  found  himself  in  the 
witness-box.  He  deposed  as  to  the  betting,  and 
the  fight  at  Doncaster ;  the  debt  of  five  and  twenty 


THE  EARL   OF  BEAUCHAMP,  131 

pounds;  prisoner's  appeal  to  deceased  to  pay  it;  his 
refusal,  and  the  subsequent  quarrel. 

As  Grainger  listened,  be  felt  that  every  word  of 
this  evidence  was  a  strand  in  the  rope  that  was 
to  hang  his  unfortunate  client ;  and  ho  merely 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  stating  that  he  reserved 
his  defence. 

"That  being  the  case,"  said  the  stipendiary, 
"the  prisoner  is  committed  to  take  his  trial  at 
Leeds  Assizes." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   EARL   OF  BEAUCHAMP. 

Within  an  hour  after  he  had  heard  the  news  of 
his  accession  to  the  earldom,  Ealph  Hollis  was  on 
horseback,  riding  full-speed  to  Barford.  Wild  and 
pale,  with  blood-shot  eyes,  he  had  come  from  his 
chamber  to  receive  the  congratulations  of  his 
mother  and  the  vicar ;  then,  without  breakfasting 
— for  he  declared  he  had  no  appetite — he  had  gone 
round  to  the  stable,  and  ordered  his  horse  to  bo 
saddled  at  once. 

"  Poor  boy  ! "  sighed  his  mother.  "  The  surprise 
was  a  joyful  one,  but  a  shock  notwithstanding.  He 
can  scarcely  realize  his  good  fortune." 

Ealph  returned  to  the  front  of  the  house,  followed 
by  the  groom  leading  the  horse.    Mrs.  Hollis  came 


132  RACHEL  DENE, 

out  to  the  porch,  and  was  again  startled  to  see 
how  dazed  and  strange  her  son  still  appeared. 

"Mother,"  he  said  nervously,  "I  am  just  going 
over  to  Barford,  and  shall  telegraph  to  London 
from  there." 

''Won't  you  go  first  to  the  Oaks,  and  tell  the 
Denes  ?  " 

*'  I  leave  that  to  you,"  answered  the  young  man. 
"  I  shall  be  back  very  soon.  What  with  one  thing 
and  another,  I  feel  rather  upset.  I  shall  be  all 
right  after  a  gallop  in  the  fresh  air." 

Grasping  the  reins  with  hands  that  trembled 
violently,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  rapidly 
away,  his  mother  watching  him  with  proud  and 
loving  eyes  till  he  disappeared.  In  her  joy  at  the 
good  fortune,  Mrs,  Hollis  had  quite  forgotten  the 
dark  affair  which  had  occurred  the  previous  night. 
All  her  heart  was  full  of  pride  and  happiness. 

"  I  will  go  to  Eachel,"  she  said,  *'  and  tell  her 
the  good  news." 

So,  while  Ealph  was  riding  towards  Barford, 
she  went  and  found  Eachel  Dene.  But  when  she 
spoke  of  Pvalph's  good  fortune,  of  his  accession  to 
wealth  and  a  great  title,  Eachel  scarcely  seemed 
to  hear  or  heed.  The  young  girl's  whole  heart 
was  occupied  with  two  feelings  —  tenderness  for 
the  poor  lad  just  committed  for  a  terrible  crime, 
and  indignation  against  those  who  could  possibly 
believe  him  guilty.  All  her  soul  was  at  last  awake. 
Sharp  on  her  discovery  of  the  true  state  of  her 
feelings    towards    Jack   Heywood   had   come   the 


THE  EARL    OF  BEAUCHAMP.  133 

announcement  that  lie  was  a  criminal,  arrested  for 
murder.     It  was  almost  too  horrible  for  belief. 

"Are  you  not  glad,  Kachel,"  said  Mrs.  Hollis, 
**  of  my  boy's  good  fortune  ?  " 

Eachel  looked  at  her  sadly,  with  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"  Of  course  I  am  glad,  for  his  sake,"  she 
answered;  "but  to-night  I  can  think  of  one 
thing  only — 'tis  so  strange,  so  terrible !  Mr. 
Heywood  is  accused  of  murdering  his  foster-father, 
and,  although  I  am  sure  he  is  innocent,  it  looks 
so  black  against  him." 

Mrs.  HoUis  looked  in  her  face,  and  saw  there, 
with  womanly  instinct,  the  confession  of  the  truth 
— that  Eachel  had  given  her  heart  to  the  man 
who  had  once  saved  her  life.  Well,  after  all,  it 
did  not  matter  much  now.  The  new  Earl  of 
Beauchamp  might  look  higher  than  the  heiress 
of  the  Denes.  The  day  before,  such  a  match  would 
have  been  social  salvation  for  her  son — for  them 
all ;  but  a  few  hours  had  changed  the  cards,  and 
Ealph  was  master  of  the  situation. 

Meantime,  Ealph  rode  towards  Barford.  Quitting 
Deepdale  by  the  high  road,  he  reached  the  open 
moor,  and,  drawing  rein,  looked  back  and  saw, 
looming  darkly  against  the  morning  sky,  the  black 
outline  of  the  mills.  A  shudder  ran  through  his 
frame  as  he  thought  of  the  dead  man  lying  there, 
and  of  the  living  man  already  a  prisoner  in  the 
Eound  House. 

"My  God!"  he  murmured.  "If  I  had  only 
known  yesterday  !     Too  late — too  late  !  " 


134  RACHEL  DENE. 

Full  sunsliine  lay  upon  the  moor  and  sparkled 
on  the  river,  for  the  clouds  of  last  night's  rain  had 
passed  away,  and  fresh  airs  were  winnowing  the 
sky  to  purest  azure.  All  the  world  looked  bright 
and  glad ;  but  Ealph  saw  only  darkness  and  desola- 
tion. Haggard  and  pale,  he  turned  his  horse's 
head  again,  and  hurried  on. 

It  was  a  good  long  ride  to  Barford,  and  more 
than  once  on  the  way  thither  he  halted  at  roadside 
inns,  and  plied  himself  with  ardent  spirits.  The 
liquor  put  some  heart  into  him,  and  brought  a 
little  colour  to  his  cheeks,  so  that  by  the  time  he 
reached  the  great  town  he  was  more  master  of 
himself.  Eiding  up  to  the  principal  hotel  in  the 
High  Street,  he  dismounted,  handed  his  horse  to 
an  ostler,  and  strolled  into  the  coffee-room.  He 
had  not  yet  breakfasted,  but  he  felt  no  hunger 
whatever;  so  he  ordered  a  glass  of  brandy,  and 
had  just  drunk  it  when  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
his  shoulder.  Starting,  and  growing  deadly  pale, 
he  turned  and  encountered  the  familiar  face  of 
Captain  Fitzherbert. 

"Hullo,  old  fellow,"  said  the  Captain;  "3^ou've 
left  your  premises  and  come  over  early.  Come  to 
settle,  eh?  I'm  glad  of  that,  for  some  of  our 
fellows  were  talking  about  you  last  night,  and 
were  rather  rusty." 

Ealph  did  not  answer ;  his  tongue  clung  to  the 
roof  of  his  mouth,  and  he  trembled  nervously. 

"Anything  the  matter?"  asked  Fitzherbert, 
looking  at  him  in  some  astonishment. 


THE   EARL    OF  BEAUCHAMP.  135 

*'  Nothing,  nothing  !  "  answered  the  young  man. 
"I'm  a  little  upset  after  yesterday,  that's  all !  " 

"Hot  coppers,  eh?  By-the-by,  what's  this 
about  a  murder  down  at  Deepdale  ?  The  news 
came  over  this  morning  by  the  carrier." 

"  It  isn't  exactly  a  murder,"  said  Ralph,  avert- 
ing his  eyes,  and  looking  through  the  window  into 
the  street.  **  A  row  of  some  sort  between  our  old 
overseer  and  that  young  fellow  we  had  in  tow 
yesterday.  The  lad  got  blind  drunk,  there  was  a 
quarrel,  and  something  ugly  happened.  But  it 
isn't  murder  !     No,  no  !  not  murder  !  " 

The  Captain's  face  grew  very  grave. 

"I'm  confoundedly  sorry,"  he  said.  "  The  old 
man  has  been  killed,  at  any  rate,  hasn't  he  ?  " 

Ealph  nodded. 

"  Well,  it's  an  ugly  business  for  both  of  us  !  " 

"  For  us  !     What  business  is  it  of  ours  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  played  the  youngster  a  trick,  didn't 
we,  and  doctored  his  drink  ?  The  cursed  stuff 
must  have  made  a  madman  of  him,  and  you 
see " 

"  It  was  only  a  lark,"  cried  Ealph,  eagerly. 
"How  could  we  foresee  what  was  going  to 
happen  ?  As  for  the  lad,  I'm  sorry  for  him,  and 
I'll  do  my  best  to  help  him — yes,  by  the  Lord,  I 
will ! " 

"  I  hope  you  will,"  returned  Fitzherbert.  "  But 
now,  about  our  fellows  and  that  money  ?  Have 
you  got  it  ?" 

"  No,"  was  the  reply. 


136  RACHEL  DENE. 

"  Then  I'm  afraid  there'll  be  a  row.  I  warned 
you,"  said  the  Captain. 

"  I  think  they'll  give  me  time,"  said  Ealph, 
forcing  a  sickly  smile.  "  Yon  will,  at  any  rate, 
won't  you  ?  The  fact  is,  old  fellow — but  haven't 
you  heard  ?  I'm  in  clover  at  last !  The  old  man 
died  last  night,  and  I  got  the  telegram  this 
morning." 

Fitzherbert  was  at  once  astonished  and  de- 
lighted. 

"  I'll  tell  the  boys,"  he  cried.  "  Give  you  time  ? 
I  should  think  they  would  now."  But  he  added 
as  he  wrung  the  young  Earl's  hand,  "  I'm  sorry 
about  that  poor  devil  of  a  workman,  though !  I 
wish  we  hadn't  met  him  yesterday." 

While  Fitzherbert  went  round  to  the  barracks 
to  tell  the  officers  of  his  friend's  change  of  fortune, 
Ealph  ordered  breakfast  to  be  prepared  in  a  private 
room.  When  the  meal  was  ready  he  entered  the 
chamber,  and  found  a  fire  burning  on  the  hearth, 
and  everything  very  comfortable. 

"I'll  ring  if  I  want  anything  more,"  he  said  to 
the  waiter.  **  Stop,  though  ;  I  want  you  to  send 
me  a  telegram.     Bring  me  a  form  at  once." 

When  the  man  brought  the  form,  Ralph  wrote 
the  telegram  out  as  follows,  and  addressed  it  to 
Barkins,  the  confidential  valet  of  the  deceased 
Earl  :— 

"  Yours  received,  I  shall  come  on  to  London 
as  soon  as  possible.  Beauchamp,  White  Lion 
Hotel,  Barford. " 


THE  EARL    OF  DEAUCHAMP.  137 

Directly  the  waiter  left  the  room,  Ealph  rose  up 
and  locked  the  door ;  crossing  to  the  window, 
which  was  on  the  first  floor,  he  looked  out 
nervously  into  the  street ;  then,  secure  from  obser- 
vation, he  opened  his  coat,  and  took  from  the 
breast  pocket  a  roll  of  bank-notes  and  papers. 
His  hands  shook  like  leaves,  and  his  face  was 
as  white  as  death,  as  he  turned  the  papers 
over. 

Startled  by  the  sound  of  footsteps  along  the 
corridor,  he  thrust  them  back  into  his  bosom,  and 
stood  listening ;  but  the  steps  passed  by,  and  he 
breathed  again.  Conquering  his  agitation  with  a 
great  effort,  he  knelt  down  before  the  fire,  and 
placing  the  papers  one  by  one  in  the  blaze, 
watched  them  rapidly  consuming;  bank-notes, 
bills  of  exchange,  letters  of  credit,  all  shared  the 
same  fate.  In  a  few  minutes,  every  one  of  them 
had  disappeared,  save  for  a  few  charred  fragments 
and  pieces  of  film  that  fluttered  on  the  top  of  the 
blazing  coal.  As  if  fearful  that  even  these  might 
betray  his  secret,  he  seized  the  poker  and  dis- 
persed the  ashes  into  the  surrounding  flame.  At 
last,  rising  to  his  feet,  he  stood  again  listening. 
All  was  quite  silent.  He  went  tip -toe  to  the  door, 
unlocked  it  stealthily,  and  then  sat  down  to 
breakfast. 

He  could  not  eat;  he  was  too  spirit- shaken  and 
terrified;  but  he  hurriedly  drank  some  cups  of 
tea,  and  swallowed  a  few  morsels  of  dry  toast.  He 
rose  again,   and  looked  in  the  mirror  over  the 


T38  RACHEL  DENE. 

mantelpiece;  Ins  face  was  like  a  cleatl  man's,  and 
his  head  was  swimming  round. 

A  sound  of  voices,  mingled  with  merry  laughter, 
came  from  helow,  and,  ascending  the  stairs, 
approached  nearer  and  nearer. 

**  Eoom  twenty-five — all  right !  "  cried  the  voice 
of  Fitzherbert. 

The  next  moment  the  Captain  appeared,  accom- 
panied by  several  young  officers  of  the  fighting 
Forty-First. 

"  Here  we  are  !  "  cried  Fitzherbert.  "  Come  to 
congratulate  you,  old  boy  !  " 

And  Ealph,  surrounded  on  every  side  by  his 
friends,  and  felicitated  on  his  good  fortune,  forcing 
a  spasmodic  gaiety,  bade  them  welcome,  and  ring- 
ing the  bell,  ordered  champagne  and  cigars.  After 
a  glass  or  two,  he  felt  better,  laughed  and  joked, 
and  made  as  merry  as  possible.  Not  a  word  was 
said  on  either  side  of  the  paper  with  his  signature 
which  some  of  these  young  bloods  held  in  their 
possession.     Ealph  was  the  hero  of  the  hour. 

He  did  not  return  to  Deepdale  that  night,  but, 
while  Jack  Heywood  was  languishing  in  prison, 
kept  it  up  royally  with  the  officers  and  Fitz- 
herbert. Play  ensued,  of  course,  and  the  young 
Earl  lost  as  usual ;  but  he  did  not  care,  and  dis- 
tributed his  paper  merrily  to  the  winners,  who 
"were  well  content  to  take  it.  It  was  long  after 
midnight  when  he  staggered  to  his  bed  in  the 
hotel,  and  fell  into  a  drunken  sleep. 

He  woke  next  morning  with  a  splitting  head- 


THE  EARL   OF  BEAUCHAMP.  139 

aclie  ;  but  in  spite  of  that,  his  nerves  were  calmer, 
and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  the  situation. 
The  Barford  newspapers  were  full  of  long  accounts 
of  the  Deepdale  tragedy.  Sitting  at  breakfast  in 
his  private  room,  he  read  through  all  the  horrible 
details  of  the  murder,  the  prisoner's  arrest  and 
self-accusations,  the  overwhelming  and  damning 
]Droofs  against  him. 

*'  Poor  devil !  "  thought  Ralph  the  Earl.  "  One 
comfort  is,  they  can't  make  it  anything  worse  than 
manslaughter.  If  it  was  a  hanging  matter,  I 
think  I  should  go  mad  !  " 

He  was  now  resolved  not  to  return  to  Deepdale 
until  the  affair  had  blown  over.  His  nerves,  he 
felt,  were  quite  unequal  to  the  ordeal.  So  ho 
wrote  a  hasty  letter  to  his  mother,  telling  her 
that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  go  straight  on 
to  London.  There  was  an  exDress  train  to  the 
metropolis  at  two  p.m. ;  he  determined  to  take 
it — a  determination  which  he  communicated  to 
Fitzherbert,  who  stepped  in  after  breakfast. 

The  Captain,  while  expressing  his  approval  of 
the  arrangement,  returned  again  to  the  subject 
of  the  murder. 

"  Seen  the  papers,  of  course  ? "  he  said. 
**  Well,  I  do  hope  the  poor  lad  will  get  off  clear, 
or,  at  any  rate,  with  a  light  punishment.  I'd  go 
into  the  box  myself  to  prove  that  he  was  blazing 
drunk,  and  didn't  know  what  he  was  doing." 

"You'd  better  not  do  that,"  returned  Ealph, 
nervously. 


I40  RACHEL   DENE. 

"  Well,  perhaps  not ;  but,  by  George,  I  won't 
stand  by  quietly  if  they  make  out  too  black  a  case 
against  him  !  I  feel  still  as  if  it  was  all  our  doing 
—don't  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Ealph ;  "  and,  for  that  matter, 
there  will  be  plenty  of  people  to  swear  as  to  his 
condition." 

"  It  says  in  the  papers  that  there  was  money 
stolen  and  valuable  papers,  but  the  police  can  find 
no  trace  of  them.  It's  queer,  now,  seeing  that  he 
was  taken  red-handed,  that  nothing  of  the  sort 
was  found  upon  him.  But  what's  the  matter? 
You  look  as  white  as  a  ghost !  " 

"  I've  a  confounded  headache,"  stammered 
Ralph.  *'  Two  nights  of  it,  you  know !  Besides, 
this  business  of  the  succession  has  come  upon  me 
so  suddenly  that  I  don't  know  whether  I'm  standing 
on  my  head  or  my  heels." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  laughed  the  Captain.  '*  By 
George,  though,  I  should  like  to  be  in  your  shoes  ! 
You  wanted  the  tin  badly  enough,  old  fellow,  and 
I  suppose  you  don't  object  to  the  title  thrown  in  ?  " 

**  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Ealx^h,  echoing  the 
laugh. 

Presently  Fitzherbert  went  away,  promising  to 
meet  his  friend  shortly  in  London;  and  Ealph 
was  again  left  alone  to  his  self-reproaches  and 
nervous  terrors.  Determined  to  front  the  world 
boldly,  and  put  on  the  brightest  face  possible,  he 
strolled  downstairs  and  stood  at  the  inn  door, 
Bmoking  his  cigar  and   looking   at   the   crowded 


THE  EARL   OF  BEAUCHAMP.  141 

street.  The  news  of  his  good  fortune  had  spread 
by  this  time;  the  landlord  of  the  inn  came  for- 
ward to  congratulate  him,  while  the  waiters  and 
chambermaids  looked  on  obsequiously.  Several 
acquaintances  came  up,  and  after  fresh  congratu- 
lations, passed  on.  So  the  time  wore  away  till 
noon. 

As  twelve  o'clock  sounded  from  the  neighbour- 
ing cathedral,  a  dog-cart  drove  up  to  the  door, 
and  Ralph  saw,  seated  beside  the  driver,  the  very 
last  person  he  could  have  wished  to  encounter  at 
the  moment — Rachel  Dene.  She  was  quite  alone, 
and  the  moment  she  saw  the  young  man  she 
uttered  a  joyful  exclamation.  He  stepped  forward, 
and  assisted  her  to  alight. 

"Why,  what  brings  you  to  Barford ?  "  he  asked. 
"  And  why  are  you  without  an  escort  ?  " 

"  Grandpapa  could  not  come  with  me,"  she 
cried  quickly,  "  and  as  there  was  no  time  to  be 
lost,  I  hurried  hither  alone.  I  am  going  on  to 
Mr.  Grainger  about  poor  Jack  Heywood.  Oh, 
Ralph,  thou  hast  heard?  Was  ever  such  a 
calamity  ?    Yet  he  is  innocent,  I  know  !  " 

"I'm  sure  I  hope  so,"  answered  Ral^^h,  shrink- 
ing from  the  gaze  of  the  young  girl's  clear,  truthful 
eyes. 

**  I  am  so  glad  we  have  met,  for  thou  wilt  help 
me,  I  am  sure.  Let  me  go  on  to  Mr.  Grainger 
at  once." 

And  she  took  his  arm  eagerly,  as  if  to  lead  him 
away. 


142  RACHEL  DENE. 


t( 


I  am  very  sorry,"  he  stammered  nervously, 
"but  it  is  absolutely  imperative  for  me  to  go  to 
London.  The  Earl  is  dead.  My  mother  has  told 
you,  I  suppose?  and  I  must  pay  him  the  last 
respects,  as  his  kinsman  and  heir." 

"  Thou  canst  not  help  the  dead  !  "  cried  Eachel. 
"  "What  we  must  all  do  now  is  clear.  An  innocent 
man  is  accused  of  murder,  and  perchance  we  ca^n 
save  him.  Come  with  me,  for  God's  sake,  and 
come  at  once  !  " 

Kalph  would  have  done  so  gladly,  but  he  dreaded 
the  ordeal  of  the  interview  with  the  solicitor,  and 
all  his  wish  now  was  to  get  out  of  the  way  as 
quickly  as  possible.  He  was  still  full  of  a  nervous 
terror. 

*'  My  dear  Eachel,  it  is  impossible ! "  he  said. 
"Of  course,  I  will  do  all  I  can;  but  they  are 
waiting  for  me  in  London." 

Again  he  felt  her  truthful  eyes  upon  him,  and 
shrank  from  meeting  them.  He  felt  for  the 
moment  as  if  he  could  have  sunk  through  the 
earth  in  shame. 

"  Oh,  Ealph,  he  saved  my  life !  "  sobbed  the 
girl. 

**  Don't  fret  yourself  unnecessarily,"  he  replied. 
"  Every  one  knows  that  the  man  was  drunk,  and 
if  he  did  this  thing  it  was  in  a  drunken  frenzy. 
That,  of  course,  will  plead  in  his  favour." 

But  Eachel,  drying  her  eyes  suddenly,  and 
setting  her  face  to  a  look  of  clear  resolve,  cried, 
*'  He  is  innocent,  I  tell  thee ;  nay,  I  could  stake 


THE  EARL   OF  BEAUCHAMP,  143 

my  life  upon  it.     Whoever  killed  poor  Mr.  Prjkc, 
it  was  not  Jack  Hey  wood !  " 

It  was  a  bard  task  for  Ealpli  Hollis  to  preserve 
his  self-command ;  he  was  tortured  as  if  upon  the 
rack,  and  could  scarcely  refrain  from  uttering  a 
cry  of  pain.  Trembling  violently,  be  turned  his 
head  away,  when  he  felt  the  girl's  band  clutching 
his  arm,  and  heard  her  saying,  **  The  man  who 
did  this  thing  was  a  thief,  and  had  broken  into 
the  counting-house.  Jack  Heywood  was  incapable 
of  such  an  act !  Oh,  Ealph,  bo  was  thy  com- 
panion in  childhood,  and  was  ever  so  good  and 
true !  Thou  canst  not  think  him  guilty  ?  Say 
thou  canst  not  ?  " 

**  Upon  my  life,"  answered  Ealph,  "  I  don't 
know  what  to  think  or  say  !  I'm  only  sure  of  one 
thing — that  I  could  cut  off  my  right  hand  to  set 
the  fellow  free  !  " 

A  few  more  hurried  words,  and  Eachel  was  gone. 
The  young  man  breathed  again  as  soon  as  she 
disappeared. 

"Confound  the  girl!"  he  muttered.  "Why 
the  deuce  does  she  meddle  in  the  matter?  I  was 
right,  then ;  it  is  clear  enough  that  she  loves 
bim !  " 

In  his  nervous  alarm  from  other  causes,  be 
scarcely  felt  at  that  moment  even  a  qualm  of 
jealousy.  All  his  wish  now  was  to  fly  away  from 
the  scene  of  his  horror,  and  from  the  eyes  which  at 
any  moment  might  read  his  secret. 

A  little  later,  be  was  seated  alone  in  a  first-class 


144  RACHEL  DENE, 

carriage,  travelling  by  express  to  Loudon,  more 
like  a  fugitive  from  justice  than  the  happy  heir  to 
fortune  and  an  earldom. 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

THE   PEIMEOSE   PATH. 

Upon  arriving  at  Curzon  Street,  May  Fair,  Ralph 
found  that  his  uncle's  death  had  been  occasioned 
by  a  fit  of  apoplexy  upon  returning  from  the  Lord 
Mayor's  banquet.  A  few  days  afterwards  he 
attended  the  obsequies  at  Beauchamp  Castle,  as 
chief  mourner,  with  little  or  no  affectation  of 
regret  for  a  relative  whom  he  had  scarcely  seen, 
and  who  had  been  systematically  hostile  to  his 
mother  and  himself. 

After  the  funeral,  he  returned  to  the  Castle, 
looked  through  the  stables,  glanced  at  the  coverts, 
conferred  with  the  steward,  the  butler,  and  the 
housekeeper,  the  head  groom,  and  the  head  game- 
keeper, confirmed  them  in  their  appointments, 
and  returned  to  town  by  the  next  train,  accom- 
panied by  Grimstone,  the  family  solicitor. 

They  dined  together  that  night  in  Curzon  Street, 
where  Ealph  thenceforth  took  up  his  abode, 
having  taken  over  the  whole  of  his  uncle's  menage, 
including  Barkins,  the  valet,  who  had  been  in 
the  Beauchamp  family  all  his  life,  had  known 
Ealph's     father     and    mother,     and    who    soon 


THE  PRIMROSE  PATH.  145 

succeeded,  by  the  way,  in  attaching  himself  to 
his  new  master. 

That  evening,  Grimstone  explained  to  his  youth- 
ful client  that  it  would  be  requisite  to  go  through 
certain  formalities  for  the  administration  of  the 
estate;  but  before  the  week  was  out,  the  new  Earl 
had  taken  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and 
voted  for  the  Government  in  an  important 
division. 

The  estate  cut  up  better  than  was  anticipated, 
and  Kalph  found  himself  in  the  enjoyment  of 
something  like  thirty  thousand  a  year — so,  at 
least,  he  wrote  Jacob  Dene,  politely  tendering  his 
resignation — expressing  his  regret  for  the  over- 
seer's untimely  death,  and  volunteering  tho 
opinion  that  Jack,  he  felt  sure,  was  the  last  man 
in  the  world  capable  of  such  a  crime. 

He  wrote  much  to  the  same  effect  to  Jasper 
Heywood,  telling  him  to  draw  upon  him  for  all 
moneys  requisite  for  the  defence.  He  touched 
lightly  upon  the  subject  in  his  letter  to  Eachel,  to 
whom  he  sent  some  little  presents  just  to  remind 
her  of  his  existence.  Nor  did  he  forget  his  other 
friends  and  relations.  To  his  mother  he  sent  an 
open  cheque,  some  valuable  pieces  of  mourning, 
gloves,  etc.,  and  to  the  vicar  some  books  of  refer- 
ence. Then,  having  so  far  done  his  duty,  he 
invited  Captain  Fitzherbert  to  come  and  join  him 
in  seeing  life  in  London,  to  which  occupation 
these  gentlemen  devoted  themselves  assiduously. 

It  was   astonishing  what   a  number  of  friends 

L 


140  RACHEL  DENE. 

cropped  up  all  at  onee  at  May  Fair.  Friends  of 
Ealph's  father,  friends  of  bis  mother — aristocratic 
matrons  with  marriageable  daughters,  and  friends 
of  his  late  lamented  uncle.  Besides  these  came  a 
clientele  of  tradespeople  who  bad  fattened  on  the 
Beanchamps  for  generations.  Then  there  ■were 
obliging  gentlemen,  olive-complexioned  and  large- 
nosed,  who  inquired  in  the  most  delicate  and 
friendly  manner  if  the  new  lord  needed  ready 
money.  There  were  other  gentlemen  with  cropped 
beads,  low  foreheads,  bull  nechs,  who  called  to 
inquire  if  "my  lord  "  required  any  lessons  in  the 
noble  arts  of  racing  and  self-defence. 

The  Honourable  Augustus  Torvin,  the  Govern- 
ment whip,  put  the  new  Earl  up  at  the  Junior 
Carlton,  and  Tom  Tressider  nominated  him  for  the 
Jockey  Club,  in  place  of  his  noble  uncle,  deceased  ; 
while  Fitzherbert  introduced  him  to  the  Ostriches, 
where  one  night  they  encountered  the  famous 
Major  O'Gallagher,  whose  escapade  with  the  Begum 
of  Upper  Oude  led  to  bis  quitting  the  service  with 
a  certain  eclaircissement  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago. 

The  Major,  of  course,  was  a  native  of  the  Sister 
Isle,  with  just  that  flavour  of  the  brogue  on  his 
tongue,  and  those  cordial  and  ingratiating  manners, 
which  impart  such  a  charm  to  the  manners  of  the 
well-bred  Irishman. 

Although  on  the  shady  side  of  sixty,  he  was  a 
fine,  stalwart  fellow,  and  in  excellent  preservation. 
"  Mick,"  as  his  friends  called  him,  had  a  bead  as 
white  and  as  well  polished  as  a  billiard  ball;   a 


THE   PRIMROSE    PATH.  Mj 

celestially  Irish  nose  ;  bright,  twinkling  blue  eyes  ; 
rosy,  clean-shaven  cheeks,  which  expanded  into 
dewlaps  as  they  fell  in  ghstening  folds  over  the 
white  neck-scarf  which  he  always  affected. 

He  had  met  the  late  Colonel  Hollis  in  India 
during  those  bad  times  of  the  Mutiny,  and  he 
received  Ealph  with  effusion. 

"I  knew  your  father,"  he  cried,  "before  ye  were 
born.  The  best  player  at  poker  and  pyramids  in 
the  Punjaub.  And  how  is  that  gorgeous  creature, 
your  mother  ?  By  my  honour,  I  used  to  adore 
her ;  that  is,  before  I  took  to  adoring  my  dinner. 
Which  reminds  me  you  must  come  and  dine  with 
me  to-night,  and  your  friend,  too." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Ealph  pleaded  a  prior  engage- 
ment ;  the  Major  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer. 

"  Come,  my  boy,  and  take  us  without  ceremony," 
said  he.  "  Julia  will  be  delighted  to  see  you. 
Sure,  she  played  with  you  when  you  were  a  little 
fellow  the  size  of  my  thumb  out  there  at  Lucknow, 
when  the  Nana,  bad  cess  to  him,  gave  poor  Ealph 
his  quietus." 

Both  the  young  fellows  were  impressed  by  the 
Major's  frank  and  engaging  manners,  and  the 
little  dinner  at  Montpellier  Square  was  a  break 
in  the  run  of  bachelor  banquets.  To  be  sure,  the 
O'Gallagher  apartments  were  not  palatial,  but 
there  was  a  cordial  welcome  from  the  Major  and 
the  Major's  daughter. 

In  appearance  Julia  O'Gallagher  reminded  Ealph 
of  some  lost  vision  of  his  youth,  or  one  of  those 


148  RACHEL   DENE. 

weird  bizarre  statues  of  some  bronzed  odalisque, 
partially  clad  in  garments  of  white,  from  which 
the  dusky  limbs  gleam  forth  bare  and  beautiful  in 
the  stately  symmetry  of  their  classic  outlines. 
Had  Cleopatra  had  the  faintest  tinge  of  Egyptian 
blood  in  her  Greek  veins,  so  might  the  serpent  of 
Old  Nile  have  looked  in  her  golden  prime.  The 
tinge  of  olive  which  blended  with  the  Milesian 
strain  of  the  0' Gallaghers  came  from  her  mother, 
the  Begum  aforesaid.  Thence  also  came  the  white 
teeth;  the  luscious,  scarlet  lips — lips  like  twin 
rosebuds ;  the  dark,  flashing  eyes ;  the  straight, 
black  brows ;  the  night  of  raven  hair,  which  was 
wont  upon  provocation  to  tumble  to  the  ground, 
covering  her  lithe  and  elastic  figure  as  with  an 
iridescent  mantle  of  sable.  The  voice,  too,  had 
the  soft,  crooning  music  of  the  far  East.  To  these 
Oriental  attributes  were  added  the  accomplishments 
of  Europe — a  taste  for  music,  painting,  and  the 
fine  arts  generally. 

She  came  forward  and  welcomed  the  young  men 
as  if  she  had  known  them  all  her  life  ;  indeed,  she 
professed  to  remember  Ealph  as  her  little  play- 
fellow at  Lucknow  and  Cawnpore. 

Neither  he  nor  Fitzherbert  noted  her  garb,  but 
saw  vaguely  that  it  was  some  soft  flowing  white 
stuff;  nor  did  they  even  note  the  pearls  which 
rose  and  sank  upon  her  neck ;  in  fact,  they  paled 
their  ineffectual  fires  before  the  light  of  her  splendid 
eyes.     The  men  were  captivated  at  the  first  look. 

The  repast  was  not  particularly  sumptuous,  but 


THE  PRIMROSE   PATH.  149 

it  was  agreeable,  well  cooked,  and  well  served,  and 
Miss  O'Gallagher  did  the  honours  like  a  princess. 
After  dinner  she  left  the  gentlemen  to  their  wine. 
They  didn't  stay  long,  however,  and  when  they 
joined  her  she  gave  them  some  delicious  tea  in 
dainty  little  cups  of  some  quaint  Indian  ware, 
arabesqued  and  inlaid  with  gold.  Then  she  sang 
and  played  to  them,  and  did  both  divinely. 

By-and-by,  three  or  four  men  about  town  dropped 
in  to  beg  a  cup  of  tea.  Presently  some  one  suggested 
cards,  whereupon  Julia  glided  from  the  room  with- 
out a  word. 

After  an  hour  or  two  at  half-crown  points,  the 
guests  began  to  drop  away,  and  Ealph  and  Fitz- 
herbert  rose  to  follow  suit. 

*'  Make  my  adieux.  Major,  to  Miss  O'Gallagher," 
said  Ealph.     *'  Thanks  for  a  delightful  evening." 

*'  Come  again,  my  boys,"  replied  the  Major, 
**  without  ceremony ;  there's  always  a  knife  and 
fork,  and  a  welcome." 

"  Capital  fellow,  the  Major,"  said  Ealph,  as  they 
drove  home. 

"First  rate,"  responded  Fitzherbert.  "But 
isn't  the  girl  splendid  ?  " 

"  She's  a  beauty,"  returned  Ealph,  with  a  yawn, 
"for  a  fellow  whose  taste  lies  in  that  direction. 
I  suppose,  being  nearly  a  nigger  myself,  I  adore 
fair  women.  Besides,  there's  only  one  woman  in 
the  world  for  me,  and  she's  down  at  Deepdale." 

"By  Jove!"  cried  the  captain,  "I  begin  to 
think  there's  only  one  woman  in  the  world  for 


ISO  RACHEL  DENE. 

me,  and  she's  at  Montpellier  Square.  Not  that 
I  suppose  she'd  ever  descend  on  a  poor  plunger 
like  myself.  I  expect  she's  looking  out  for  higher 
game — a  prince  or  a  lord,  at  least." 

*'  They  seem  pretty  well  tiled  in.  I  suppose  the 
Begum  left  her  something  worth  having  ?  " 

"  Don't  know,"  said  Fitzherbert.  "  When  we 
were  in  the  Punjaub  our  fellows  used  to  look  upon 
all  the  natives  as  niggers.  There's  nothing  of  the 
nigger  about  /ter." 

"  Not  a  bit." 

'*  I  say,  Ealph,  look  here ;  the  Major's  worth 
cultivating.  I've  won  a  fiver  to-night.  The  first 
lucky  deal  I've  had  since  I've  been  in  town." 

"  And  I  believe  I'm  a  sovereign  or  two  to  the 
good,"  laughed  Ealph,  fuU  of  his  new  independence 
of  such  trifles. 

That  was  the  first  of  many  pleasant  nights 
at  Montpellier  Square.  Strange  to  say,  Julia 
O'Gallagher  had  no  lady  friends.  She  reigned, 
therefore,  with  undivided  sway,  and  distributed 
her  smiles  or  courtesies  with  perfect  impartiality, 
and  an  apparent  absence  of  personal  predilection ; 
and  yet  how  dangerously  seductive  she  could  be 
when  she  played  the  artillery  of  her  charms  upon 
any  given  object !  To-nigbt  one  man  thought 
himself  the  especial  favourite ;  the  next,  another 
man  was  made  happy  with  a  smile  or  a  gracious 
word.  Tom  Tressider  was  the  first  favourite  one 
night ;  Fitzherbert  took  the  premier  j)as  upon 
another  occasion.     Every  man  had  his  turn — turn 


THE  PRIMROSE  PATH.  151 

and  turn  about ;  perhaios  Ealph  came  in  for  more 
than  the  rest.  He  said  that  was  because  Julia 
remembered  him  as  an  old  playfellow.  Fitzberbcrt 
thought,  however,  it  was  because  she  remembered 
he  was  an  Earl. 

Whenever  the  men  took  to  cards,  which  they 
did  every  evening,  she  took  herself  to  her  own 
apartments. 

"Boys  will  b3  boys,"  said  the  Major.  "For 
myself,  I  object  to  going  beyond  a  crown  point. 
But  never  mind — go  ahead ;  you  can  only  be 
young  once !  " 

Night  after  night  the  play  became  heavier  and 
heavier,  despite  the  Major's  warnings.  Other  men 
sometimes  dropped  in.  There  was  the  Hon.  Algy 
Fitz  Urse,  the  Chevalier  Vicoff,  Major  Deuceace, 
and  a  few  other  choice  bloods  of  the  Ostriches. 
That  five  pounds  of  Fitzherbert's  had  gone  long 
ago,  with  many  a  note  to  boot. 

Julia  invariably  suggested  that  both  Ealph  and 
Fitz  should  take  their  departure  at  the  same  time 
with  herself,  but  they  decided  to  remain.  When 
she  left  the  room,  the  men  formed  an  avenue  down 
which  she  passed  with  a  smile  and  a  kind  good 
night  for  all. 

Then  came  the  real  work  of  the  night — baccarat, 
poker,  and  the  rest  of  it.  The  Major  smoked  his 
cigarette  and  looked  on  while  the  youngsters  went 
for  each  other. 

What  with  the  excitement  of  the  game  and 
copious  libations,  Ealph  and  Fitzherbert  began  to 


IS2  RACHEL  DENE. 

plunge  heavily,  and  to  lose  heavily,  too.  Some 
nights  they  did  not  know  what  they  had  lost. 
I.O.U.'s  were  circulated  freely.  They  never  re- 
mained long  in  doubt  about  these,  for  one  or  other 
of  their  friends  usually  turned  up  the  next  day  at 
May  Fair,  requesting  payment. 

Sometimes,  too,  the  Major  himself  put  in  an 
appearance  with  a  promissory  note  and  a  paternal 
remonstrance. 

This  business  of  settling  up  didn't  give  Fitz- 
herbert  much  trouble  so  long  as  Ralph  paid  the 
piper ;  in  the  end,  however,  it  upset  him  both  in 
health  and  in  credit.  Nights  at  Montpellier  Square 
were  varied  by  nights  at  the  Merozable  and  at  the 
Ostriches ;  but  wherever  these  young  gentlemen 
went,  the  result  was  invariably  the  same.  They 
were  by  no  means  of  the  verdant-green  fraternity  ; 
and  as  their  own  object  was  plunder,  they  could 
scarcely  object  when  the  tables  were  tm*ned  upon 
them. 

When  Barldns  found  that  his  master  and  his 
friend  had  the  devil's  books  in  their  hands  at  all 
hours ;  that  they  turned  night  into  day ;  that  they 
went  to  bed  late ;  that  when  they  got  up  their 
first  demand  was  for  soda-water ;  that  they  merely 
trifled  with  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  devilled  anchovy 
toast  before  they  returned  to  soda,  copiously 
diluted  with  brandy ;  when  he  observed  that  re- 
peated doses  of  this  potent  beverage  were  accom- 
panied by  huge  full-flavoured  havannahs,  he 
ventured  to    remonstrate.     He  might,   however. 


THE  PRIMROSE   PATH.  .153 

have  spared  himself  the  trouble,  for  all  the  thanks 
he  got. 

Presently  two  or  three  race  meetings  came  off. 
Ealph  went  to  each  of  them,  and  plunged  in  every 
direction,  losing  right  and  left.  He  now  became 
fretful,  peevish,  and  angry  upon  the  slightest  pro- 
vocation, and  could  not  bear  to  be  alone,  especially 
since  the  receipt  of  a  cold  and  repellent  letter 
from  Rachel,  more  than  hinting  that  he  had  been 
the  means  of  leading  Jack  Heywood  astray  at 
Doncaster.  His  mother  urged  him  to  come  down 
to  Deepdale  at  once,  to  settle  his  debts,  and  to 
conclude  his  engagement  with  Eachel ;  but  from 
the  tenor  of  that  young  lady's  last  communi- 
cation, he  thought  it  would  not  be  desirable  to 
put  his  fortune  to  the  test  for  the  present,  and  so 
he  postponed  his  visit  from  day  to  day,  from  week 
to  week.  A  giant's  strength  might  well  succumb 
to  the  life  he  was  now  leading,  and  Ealph  was 
no  giant. 

It  is  the  pace  that  kills,  and  the  pace  was 
beginning  to  tell  upon  him  already.  His  cheeks 
became  flushed  and  hectic,  his  hands  trembled, 
and  he  was  tortured  with  a  hollow,  racking  cough, 
which  never  ceased,  morning,  noon,  or  night. 

Obviously  he  needed  rest  and  recuperation. 
Happy  thought !  He  would  take  the  Major,  and 
a  few  sporting  friends,  down  to  the  Castle  for  the 
shooting.  He  did  do  so,  and  returned  worse  than 
ever. 

He  now  began  to  recall  the  old  days  in  the 


1 54  RACHEL  DENE, 

quiet  Yorkshire  valley  with  regret.  Old  days, 
indeed!  Why,  only  a  few  months  had  elapsed 
since  he  quitted  Deepdale,  and  yet  it  seemed  ages 
ago.  It  was  not  yet  too  late  to  pull  up  ;  he  would 
return  to  the  Vicarage.  Just  as  he  had  arrived 
at  this  sensible  conclusion,  the  Major,  the  Captain, 
and  Tom  Tressider  called  one  day  to  "  give  him  a 
straight  tip,"  as  they  expressed  it,  about  a  great 
bruising  match  which  had  just  been  arranged 
between  two  notorious  gladiators. 

The  affair,  which  was  known  only  to  the 
initiated,  was  to  come  off  in  France.  It  was  in 
the  highest  degree  chic,  and  it  would  not  do  to  be 
out  of  so  good  a  thing,  so  next  day  off  went  my 
lord,  accompanied  by  his  noble  friends.  Being  by 
no  means  a  good  sailor,  Ealph  had  an  awful 
passage  to  Dieppe,  and  landed  very  ill ;  but, 
despite  Fitzherbert's  remonstrances,  he  persisted 
in  accompanying  the  Major  and  the  rest  to  Eouen, 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  which  city  the  famous 
pugilistic  encounter  was  to  take  place. 

By  the.  time  he  got  there  Ealph  was  worse, 
and  Fitzherbert  begged  him  to  stay  in  bed  for  a 
day  or  two.  It  was  in  the  depth  of  a  most 
inclement  winter,  and  he  was  shivering  from  head 
to  foot  when,  early  next  morning,  he  got  aboard 
the  small  packet  and  steamed  down  the  river,  in 
company  with  the  Brummagem  Bulldog,  the  New 
York  Hercules,  their  seconds,  and  upwards  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  shining  lights  of  the  jeiuiesse 
cloree. 


THE   PRIMROSE  PATH.  155 

After  steaming  about  for  some  hours,  at  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  boat  was  moored 
to  an  islet  in  the  middle  of  the  river ;  the  motley 
crowd  of  peers,  plungers,  and  pugilists  landed,  and 
the  champions  of  the  two  hemispheres  proceeded 
to  batter  each  other's  faces  to  pulp,  until  night 
spitefully  put  an  end  to  the  sport.  The  stakes 
were  then  drawn,  and  the  twin  bulldogs,  having 
beaten  each  other  out  of  all  semblance  to  humanity, 
embraced  and  vowed  eternal  friendship. 

It  was  late  when  our  gallant  sportsmen  got  back 
to  Eouen.  Ealph  was  shivering  worse  than  ever, 
and  coughing  even  more  than  usual.  Fitzherbert 
urged  him  to  stay,  and  get  a  day  or  two's  rest ;  but 
the  Major,  Deuceace,  Tressider,  and  the  chamj)ion3 
were  for  pushing  on  to  Calais  by  the  express,  and 
Ealph  resolved  to  push  on  with  them. 

With  the  aid  of  copious  and  repeated  doses  of 
eau  de  vie  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Calais  in  time 
for  the  boat.  "When  they  embarked  he  could 
scarcely  keep  his  feet,  and  he  asked  Fitzherbert 
to  go  below  to  secure  a  cabin,  a  pint  of  champagne, 
and  a  captain's  biscuit. 

It  took  some  five  minutes  or  more  before  Fitz- 
herbert could  see  the  steward.  During  this  time 
the  boat  had  left  the  pier,  and  was  rapidly  making 
way ;  and  when  Fitzherbert  came  on  deck  he 
couldn't  find  Ealph  anywhere.  The  Major  had 
seen  him  five  minutes  before  ;  Tressider  had  seen 
him  even  later,  and  had  given  him  a  pull  at  his 
flask. 


156  RACHEL  DENE. 

It  now  began  to  blow  hard.  Fitzherbert  was  a 
worse  sailor  even  than  Ealph,  and  he  collapsed 
immediately.  More  than  an  hour  elapsed  after 
his  arrival  at  Dover  before  he  could  struggle  upon 
deck.  When,  at  last,  he  turned  out  there  was  no 
sign  of  either  Ealph  or  the  Major,  or,  indeed,  of 
any  of  his  friends. 

Doubtless,  they  had  gone  on  to  town  by  the 
tidal  train.  Obviously,  there  was  nothing  for  it 
but  for  him  to  follow. 


CHAPTER  XVm. 

'tWIXT   DOVER  AND   CALAIS. 

Upon  Fitzherbert's  arrival  at  May  Fair,  to  his 
astonishment  he  found  no  sign  of  Ralph  the  Earl. 
When  the  following  day  came,  and  Ralph  did  not 
appear,  Fitzherbert  became  anxious ;  anxiety  gave 
place  to  alarm  when  a  second  day  elapsed  without 
any  communication  from  his  missing  friend. 

It  now  occurred  to  the  Captain  to  look  up  the 
Major,  and  he  drove  down  to  Montpellier  Square 
in  Ralph's  brougham. 

The  Major  was  out.  He  had  gone  down  to 
Fleet  Street  to  arrange  about  the  drawing  of  the 
stakes  and  the  division  of  the  spoil  among  the 
noble  sportsmen.  But  Julia  was  visible,  and 
greeted  him  with  her  brightest  smile. 

"  How  are  you  to-day  ?  "  she  inquired. 


'TIVIXT  DOVER  AND   CALAIS.  137 

*'  Very  seedy.    I've  not  seen  you  for  an  age." 

*'  And  the  young  Earl  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  I've  not  seen  bim  since  we  left 
Calais." 

"  Indeed !  " 

"  No.  The  fact  is,  I  was  unfortunately  com- 
pelled to  succumb  to  tbe  chops  of  the  Channel, 
and  as  Ealph  was  seedy  v/hen  we  went  aboard,  I 
thought  possibly  the  Major  might  have  taken 
charge  of  him." 

*'  I  don't  think  so.  Papa  has  never  mentioned 
the  subject  to  me." 

**  When  did  the  Major  get  back  ?  " 

**  The  night  before  last." 

**  I  think  I'd  better  look  him  up  at  once." 

When  Fitzherbert  reached  the  Ostrich  club  the 
Major  was  at  lunch. 

"  Well,  dear  boy,  how's  our  Pylades — how's  the 
golden  youth?" 

*' Don't  know,"  cried  the  Captain.  *' I  thought 
you  could  tell  me." 

"  The  deuce  you  did  !     How's  that  ?  " 

"I've  not  seen  him  since  we  left  Calais." 

**  You  don't  mane  that  ?  "  said  the  Major. 

"  I  do,  though." 

"  Perhaps  you'll  be  after  explaining  ?  " 

"  Eirst,  do  you  mean  to  say.  Major,  yoiCve  not 
seen  him  ?  " 

"  Divil  a  bit!  Now,  then,  go  ahead,  dear  boy, 
with  the  particulars." 

"Well,  then,  I  lost  sight  of  him  when  we  got 


158  RACHEL  DENE. 

aboard,  and  I  had  such  a  devil  of  a  time  of  it  in 
crossing  that  I  couldn't  pull  myself  together  to 
come  on  deck  till  long  after  you  fellows  had  got 
ashore.  I  came  on  by  the  next  train  to  Curzon 
Street,  expecting  to  find  him  there.  He  has  not 
been  there,  nor  have  I  seen  or  even  heard  of  him 
since." 

"  The  dear  boy  seemed  very  queer.  Perhaps  he 
may  be  staying  at  Dover  to  recuperate." 

"  Not  a  bad  idea.  I'll  telegraph  the  Lord 
Warden  at  once," 

Having  despatched  his  telegram,  Fitzherbert 
joined  the  Major  at  lunch.  By  the  time  they  had 
finished,  there  came  a  reply  from  Dover,  stating 
that  Lord  Beauchamp  was  not  at  the  Lord 
Warden,  nor  had  he  been  there. 

"I  have  it!"  said  the  Major.  "Boys  will  be 
boys ;  he's  met  with  an  adventure.  I'll  go  bail, 
now,  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  have  detained  him  on 
the  other  side  of  the  streak." 

*'  But  I  tell  you  I  saw  him  aboard." 

"So  did  I;  but  sure  he'd  plenty  of  time  to  get 
ashore.  Ah,  with  youth  the  season  is  for  joy ; 
and  I  was  young  once  myself." 

"  What  time  is  it  ? "  inquired  Fitzherbert, 
looking  at  his  watch.  "  Four  o'clock  !  Just  time 
to  catch  the  tidal  train.     I'm  off!" 

"  More  power  to  ye.  Let  me  know  as  soon  as 
you  have  traced  the  truant." 

Fortunately  for  Fitzherbert,  this  time  the 
Channel  was  as  smooth  as  a  mill-pond. 


'TIVIXT  DOVER  AND   CALAIS,  159 

Immediately  on  his  arrival  at  Calais  he  went  to 
the  xDolice-station.  The  Commissary  was  com- 
municative and  obliging.  He  stated  that  at  the 
very  moment  the  packet  cast  her  moorings  a  man 
•was  seen  rapidly  running  down  the  pier ;  that  he 
tried  to  leap  aboard ;  that  he  missed  his  footing, 
and  fell  headlong  into  the  sea ;  that  a  couple  of 
fishermen,  who  were  fortunately  cruising  about  in 
a  small  coble,  fished  him  out  more  dead  than 
alive;  that  he  was  now  lying  at  the  Hotel 
Montjoy,  and  that  in  all  probability  he  was  the 
missing  English  milord. 

Half  an  hour  later  Fitzherbert  was  by  Ralph's 
bedside  at  the  hospital.  He  had  been  unconscious 
since  the  moment  of  his  deliverance,  and  was  still 
quite  delirious. 

The  physician  in  attendance  stated  that  a  violent 
cold  had  supervened  upon  congestion  of  the  lungs, 
and  an  aggravated  attack  of  delirium  tremens.  It 
was  perhaps  as  well  that  this  gentleman  did  not 
understand  a  word  of  English,  as  Ealph's  ravings 
would  doubtless  have  astonished  him. 

'Twas  in  vain  that  Fitzherbert  tried  to  restrain 
the  wretched  youth.  At  one  moment  he  was  at 
Brocklesby  Ferry,  at  another  in  the  ring  at 
Doncaster.  Anon,  with  a  shriek  of  terror,  he 
started  bolt  upright,  screaming,  "Don't — don't — 
don't  glare  at  me  with  your  pale  face — don't, 
don't !  " 

Then  he  fell  back,  panting  and  exhausted. 

Thus  the   days  passed   on,   and  the   patient's 


i6o  RACHEL  DENE, 

condition  still  gave  great  cause  for  alarm.  The 
bodily  ailment  seemed  subsiding,  but  the  mental 
and  spiritual  condition  seemed  to  border  on  some 
serious  form  of  brain  disturbance  or  chronic 
hallucination. 

**  Our  young  friend  has  something  on  his  mind," 
said  the  doctor  to  Fitzherbert  after  one  of  these 
violent  outbursts.  "  I  suppose  he  has  been  a 
hon  vivant — what  you  call  in  your  English  a  free 
liver  ?  " 

*'  Of  course,  he's  gone  the  pace,"  returned  the 
Captain.  You  see,  he  has  only  just  come  into  his 
property,  and  he's  been  trying  to  see  as  much  life 
as  possible." 

**  Well,  you  must  keep  him  very  quiet,  or  he 
will  never  recover.  Do  you  know  of  any  serious 
mental  trouble?" 

"  No,"  replied  Fitzherbert.  "  He  has  everything 
a  man  can  want,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  trouble 
at  all.  But  he's  been  going  it,  you  know,  ever 
since  his  change  of  fortune." 

The  constancy  and  devotion  of  Fitzherbert  knew 
no  bounds.  Night  after  night  he  sat  up  with  his 
friend,  till  he  himself  looked  almost  as  sick  and 
haggard  as  the  invalid.  He  liked  Ealph,  and  had 
stood  by  him  in  many  a  nasty  affair.  There  was 
something  yet  in  store  for  him,  however,  which 
was  to  test  his  friendship  to  the  full. 

One  night  Ealph  Hollis  had  dozed  off  quietly, 
and  Fitzherbert,  who  sat  by  the  bedside  watching, 
thought  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  long,  sound 


'TIVIXT  DOVER  AND    CALAIS.  i6i 

rest.  Suddenly,  however,  the  invalid  awakened — 
not  with  the  wild  start  of  fever  and  delirium — and 
looked  at  his  friend ;  then,  reaching  out  a  thin, 
trembling  hand,  he  said  quite  gently,  "  Fitz,  old 
fellow,  is  there  any  news  ?  " 

**News!  Of  whom?"  asked  the  Captain,  a 
little  surprised. 

"  Of  young  Hey  wood  ?  " 

**  None ;  only  he  has  been  committed  for  trial. 
Don't  worry  yourself  about  him.  Close  your  eyes, 
and  go  to  sleep." 

But  Ealph's  hand  closed  tightly  in  his  as  the 
faint  voice  said,  **I  can't  sleep!  Sometimes,  old 
fellow,  I  think  there  is  no  sleep  for  me  this  side 
the  grave  ;  and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  think 
I  shall  ever  rise  from  my  bed  again.  Well,  so 
much  the  better.  But  I  can't  die  with  a  lie  upon 
my  soul.  You're  a  good  fellow,  and  I  can  trust 
you,  can't  I  ?  " 

"  Stake  your  soul  on  that,"  replied  the  Captain. 

"Well,  then,  I'm  going  to  make  a  clean  breast 
of  it,  and,  if  I  die,  you'll  try  to  put  things  right. 
Fitz,  I've  never  been  myself  since  that  night  at 
Doncaster.  It  was  a  dirty  trick  we  played  on  that 
youngster,  but  there's  worse  than  that  to  tell.  If 
they  hang  him,  and  if  there's  a  hell,  as  I  believe, 
the  devil  will  have  me,  for,  as  sure  as  there's  a 
God  above,  7,  and  not  Jack  Heywood,  killed  Jabez 
Pryke !  " 

With  a  cry  of  horror,  Fitzherbert  started  back, 
and  almost  sprang  to  his  feet.    At  first,  he  thought 

M 


i62  RACHEL   DENE, 

that  Ealph  was  raving,  but  a  look  into  bis  eyes 
convinced  him  to  the  contrary.  White  and  calm, 
■with  the  firm  resolve  upon  him  to  tell  his  secret 
once  and  for  ever,  Ealph  lay  back  upon  the  pillows, 
watching  the  effect  of  his  strange  confession. 

"  You  killed  him  ?  "  gasped  Fitzherbert.  **  No, 
no  ;  you're  raving  !  " 

"  I'm  telling  you  the  gospel  truth,"  said  Ralph ; 
**  and,  what's  more,  if  you  like  to  call  in  witnesses 
and  hear  me  swear  it,  I'll  stand  to  what  I  say. 
It's  that  which  has  made  me  mad,  and  driven  me 
headlong  to  the  devil.  Listen,  and  I'll  tell  you 
how  it  happened.  You  know  how  badly  I  wanted 
money — you  know  how  the  fellows  were  down  on 
me  from  every  side  ?  Well,  that  night  when  you 
drove  me  over  from  Barford  the  devil  tempted  me 
to  enter  the  counting-house  and  take  what  I  wanted, 
to  save  me  from  exposure  and  ruin.  I  was  half- 
drunk  still,  and  I  hardly  know  now  how  I  got  into 
the  place,  but  almost  before  I  could  realize  what  I 
was  doing  I  had  opened  the  safe,  and  was  collaring 
the  coin  and  the  paper.  I  had  seized  a  handful  of 
gold  and  notes,  and  had  thrust  them  into  my 
breast,  when  I  heard  a  sound  behind  me,  and, 
turning  round,  I  saw  the  overseer  standing  on  the 
threshold  of  the  room,  and  looking  on." 

There  was  silence  in  the  sick-room,  save  for  the 
low,  faint  voice  of  the  speaker.  Fitzherbert  sat 
spell-bound. 

"Well,  then,  I  knew  that  it  was  all  up,  but 
before  I  could  think  what  to  do,  the  old  man  had 


^TtVIXT  DOVER  AND   CALAIS.  163 

seized  me,  and  we  were  struggling  together.  As 
God  is  my  Judge,  Fitz,  I  never  meant  to  harm 
him,  but  I  tried  to  tear  myself  free.  In  the 
struggle  he  was  hurled  backward,  and  struck  his 
head  against  the  marble  mantelpiece.  My  God, 
I  think  I  see  him  now  !  I  hear  his  dying  cry  ! 
He  gave  one  wild  scream,  and  fell  dead  before 
me  !  " 

As  he  proceeded,  Ealph  grew  more  and  more 
excited,  and  he  sat  up  in  the  bed  wildly  gesticu- 
lating. 

**  Then  I  heard  another  sound — some  one  behind 
me  descending  the  stairs.  Young  Heywood,  still 
drunk  and  half  asleep,  with  his  eyes  closed,  and 
his  hands  feeling  before  him,  appeared  in  the 
passage.  I  stepped  back  behind  the  door  as  he 
entered,  then  out  on  the  landing  and  into  one  of 
the  recesses  of  the  stair.  A  moment  after,  I  heard 
a  shriek  from  the  room ;  it  was  the  lad's  voice, 
and  then  some  men  came  running  up  the  street, 
and  with  them  the  watch-dog  Leo.  They  did  not 
see  me,  and  the  dog,  instead  of  taking  my  scent, 
rushed  on  into  the  room,  where  the  lad  was  now 
wailing  like  a  madman.  There  wasn't  a  minute  to 
lose.  I  slipt  down  the  stair,  through  the  gate  into 
the  street,  and  ran  like  a  madman  till  I  reached 
the  Vicarage  door.  I  had  my  latch-key,  and  got 
in  unheard  and  unseen.  All  the  rest  you  know. 
Next  morning  my  mother  brought  me  the  news  of 
my  uncle's  death.  Think  of  my  feelings  then. 
But,  as  God  is  my  Judge,  it  was  an  accident,  not 


l64  RACHEL  DENE, 

murder  !    I  never  meant  to  kill  the  old  man — no, 
no!" 

He  hid  bis  face  in  bis  bands,  and  sobbed.  Fitz- 
herbert  still  sat  silent,  riveted  with  the  horror  of 
the  tale. 

"  Now  you  can  do  what  you  think  best,"  moaned 
the  -wretched  man.  "Denounce  me  if  you  like;  I 
don't  care !  " 

Yet  be  looked  pleadingly  at  bis  friend,  as  if 
beseeching  bis  sympathy  and  protection. 

"  It's  an  awful  business,"  said  the  Captain  at 
last.  **  I  never  suspected  it  was  so  bad  as  this. 
But  that  money  and  those  papers ;  what  became 
of  them  ?  " 

"  I  threw  the  gold  away  on  the  moor,  and 
destroyed  the  notes  and  papers  next  day  at  Bar- 
ford.  Fitz,  old  man,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  Now  it's 
all  up  with  me  I  don't  mind  making  a  confession ; 
but  if  I  should  live " 

"Leave  me  to  think  it  over,"  returned  Fitz- 
hcrbert.  "  Go  to  rest  now.  Here,  I'll  give  yovL 
your  draught;  it  may  send  you  off  to  sleep." 

So  saying,  he  measured  out  the  potion  which  the 
doctor  bad  left  for  the  patient.  Ealpb  drank  it 
gratefully ;  and  presently,  as  if  relieved  to  some 
extent  by  the  confession  he  bad  made,  dozed  off 
into  a  fitful  sleep.  The  Captain  sat  pondering 
darkly.  It  was  an  ugly  business,  as  be  had  said ; 
yet,  on  reflection,  be  did  not  see  as  yet  why  be 
should  interfere.  Ralph  was  bis  friend,  bis  pal, 
and  in  the  Captain's  dark  code  of  morality,  fidelity 


GUILTY  OR  NOT  GUILTY.  165 

to  a  comrade  was  the  cardinal  virtue.  Besides, 
Ealpli  was  rich  and  powerful,  and  the  downfall 
and  exposure  of  one  would  mean  certain  ruin  to 
the  other.  Of  course,  if  the  accused  man  were 
actually  convicted  and  condemned  to  death,  it 
might  be  a  different  matter.  Fitzherbert  deter- 
mined to  wait  and  see. 

At  daybreak  Ealph  opened  his  eyes,  and  saw 
the  Captain  still  sitting  by  the  bedside. 

"  Well,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 
"  Unless  I'm  dreaming,  I  told  you  everything  last 
night?" 

"You  did,"  replied  Fitzherbert;  "but  make 
your  mind  easy.  I  never  rounded  on  a  pal  yet, 
and  I'm  going  to  hold  my  tongue." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

GUILTY   OR  NOT   GUILTY. 

On  the  very  day — the  very  hour — that  Ealph  and 
his  friends  were  "assisting"  at  that  memorable 
contest  on  the  river,  Jack  Heywood  was  on  trial 
for  his  life  at  Leeds  Assizes. 

During  repeated  interviews  Grainger  had  made 
persistent  efforts  to  induce  his  client  to  confide  in 
him,  so  as  to  prepare  some  theory  for  the  defence ; 
but  he  always  obtained  the  same  answer,  the 
formula  of  which  was  simple  and  conclusive,  and 
was  contained  in  five  words — 


i66  RACHEL  DENE. 

"I  know  nothing  about  it." 

Then  the  lawyer  endeavoured  to  persuade  Jack 
to  admit  that  a  quarrel  had  occurred  while  he  was 
intoxicated ;  that  Jabez  had  struck  him,  and  that 
in  self-defence  he  had  struck  him  against  the 
mantelpiece  (for  Grainger  had  carefully  examined 
the  counting-house  and  everything  in  it) ;  hence 
the  catastrophe.  Jack,  however,  declined  to  en- 
dorse this  theory  of  the  matter,  and  reiterated — 

"I  know  nothing  about  it." 

Grainger  then  tried  another  tack.  He  got  a 
pair  of  medical  experts  to  examine  his  client,  with 
&  view  to  propounding  the  defence  of  insanity, 
i'his  line  was  more  untenable  than  the  other,  and 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  obtain  an  eloquent 
advocate  to  plead  extenuating  circumstances  to 
the  jury.  This  gentleman  did  his  duty  to  the  best 
of  his  ability ;  but  his  eloquence  was  powerless 
against  the  damning  weight  of  evidence.  The 
case  for  the  defence  having  closed,  and  the  counsel 
for  the  prosecution  having  replied,  the  judge 
proceeded  to  sum  up ;  and  having  put  the  case  for 
and  against  the  accused  with  judicial  impartiality, 
he  came  to  the  theory  of  the  defence — viz.  that 
the  crime  had  occurred  during  a  drunken  scuffle. 

"  It  is  almost  trivial  for  me,"  said  his  lordship, 
"to  observe  that  a  man  is  not  excused  from  his 
crime  by  reason  of  intoxication  by  alcohol.  If 
that  were  to  be  accepted  as  a  valid  defence,  the 
criminal  courts  might  as  well  be  closed  at  once, 
because  there  is  no  doubt   drunkenness  is  the 


GUILTY  OR  NOT  GUILTY,  167 

cause  of  a  large  proportion  of  the  crime  committed. 
The  learned  counsel  for  the  defence  has  contended 
that  the  occurrence  was  accidental,  or,  rather, 
that  it  was  one  of  those  cases  coming  within  the 
term  of  manslaughter.  He  has  also  enlarged  upon 
the  evidence  as  to  character  given  by  the  witnesses 
for  the  defence,  and  the  universal  concurrence  of 
testimony  as  to  the  known  affection  which  for  so 
many  years  had  existed  between  prisoner  and 
deceased,  and  the  absence  of  motive  for  the  com- 
mission of  the  crime.  On  the  other  hand,  gentle- 
men, you  have  the  statement  of  the  witness  Yondal 
as  to  the  occurrence  at  Doncaster;  the  refusal  of 
deceased  to  lend  prisoner  money ;  the  quarrel  on 
the  homeward  journey ;  the  threats  of  violence  ; 
the  burglarious  entry  into  the  counting-house ;  the 
breaking  open  of  the  safe ;  the  rilling  of  the  cash- 
box  ;  the  abstraction  of  certain  bank-notes,  drafts, 
and  other  moneys,  and  the  subsequent  death  of 
Jabez  Pryke. 

*'  It  is  true,  none  of  these  notes,  drafts,  or 
moneys  have  been  found  upon  the  accused,  and 
that  point  is  clearly  in  favour  of  the  prisoner. 

*'  It  is  for  you  to  decide  upon  the  matter 
without  fear  or  favour.  If  you  believe  that  the 
accused  committed  this  crime,  it  is  your  duty  to 
find  him  guilty.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  have 
any  reasonable  doubt  on  the  subject,  it  is  your 
duty  to  give  the  prisoner  the  benefit  of  the  doubt." 

At  four  o'clock  the  jury  retired  to  consider  their 


i68  RACHEL  DENE. 

verdict,  taking  with  them  the  plan  of  the  counting- 
house. 

Then  came  an  awful  and  unbroken  silence. 

Half  Deepdale  was  in  court — men  and  women 
who  had  known  the  prisoner  from  childhood. 
Jasper  and  Joan  Heywood  sat  at  the  solicitors' 
table  beside  Grainger.  A  lady,  closely  veiled,  was 
seated  'twixt  Jacob  Dene  and  the  vicar,  in  the 
gallery  to  the  left  of  the  dock.  Jack  looked  round, 
and  took  in  the  picture  as  if  in  a  dream. 

After  what  appeared  an  age,  the  jury  returned 
to  the  court,  and  the  judge  to  the  bench. 

The  foreman  was  pale  and  agitated. 

"  How  say  you,  gentlemen  of  the  jury  ?  "  inquired 
the  clerk.  "Is  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  guilty,  or 
not  guilty  ?  " 

'*  Guilty." 

The  court  surged  and  throbbed  as  if  with  one 
huge  pulse. 

"  Guilty,"  repeated  the  foreman ;  "  but  the  jury 
desire  to  recommend  the  prisoner  to  mercy  on 
account  of  his  youth,  and  also  on  account  of  the 
condition  he  was  in  when  the  crime  was  com- 
mitted." 

Then  came  the  words,  "Prisoner  at  the  bar, 
have  you  anything  to  say  why  sentence  of  death 
should  not  be  passed  upon  you  ?  " 

"Yes  !  "  exclaimed  Jack. 

In  this  supreme  moment  he  recalled,  as  if  by 
miracle,  all  that  had  occurred  on  the  night  of  the 
murder. 


GUILTY  OR  NOT  GUILTY.  169 

**  My  lord,  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  be  con- 
tinued, in  a  clear  and  sonorous  voice,  "  I  have 
nothing  to  say  against  t'  verdict — it  couldna  bo 
otherwise ;  but  for  the  sake  0'  those  I  leave  behind, 
I  wish  to  clear  my  memory  from  this  foul  crime. 
I  was  ne'er  drunk  i'  my  life  until  that  night  at 
Doncaster,  and  t'  poison  went  to  my  brain  and 
made  me  mad.  After  we  left  Doncaster,  I  remember 
nowt  until  I  was  wakened  from  my  sleep  by  a 
voice  crying  *  Murder  ! '  Had  I  been  dead,  surely 
that  voice  would  have  brought  me  back  to  life.  I 
leaped  up,  and  ran  as  fast  as  my  feet  could  carry 
me  to  the  counting-house.  As  God  is  my  Judge, 
Jabez  lay  there  dead  before  me,  bathed  i'  his  own 
blood.  From  that  moment  until  this,  when  it  has 
pleased  t'  Lord  to  lift  the  cloud  fro'  my  brain,  all 
has  been  a  blank ;  but  now — now  that  I  see  and 
know  all,  now  that  I  realize  the  dreadful  truth,  no 
punishment  you  can  inflict  can  equal  what  I  suffer 
already  in  the  knowledge  that  had  I  been  by  his 
side,  as  was  my  duty — had  I  been  a  man,  and  not 
a  drunken,  besotted  beast,  this  trouble  would  ne'er 
have  befallen  my  best  friend !  As  for  his  murderer, 
he  is  in  the  hands  0'  God,  in  whose  name  I  declare 
that  I  am  innocent !  He  knows  it ;  Jabez  Pryke 
knows  it,  too ;  and  I  can  meet  him  wi'  a  clear 
conscience.     That  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

The  judge  was  apparently  more  unmanned  than 
the  prisoner.  With  trembling  hands  he  put  on 
the  black  cap.  As  he  proceeded  to  pass  sentence, 
his  voice  was  choked  with  emotion.    Tears  streamed 


I70  RACHEL  DENE. 

down  bis  aged  cheeks ;   nor  his  alone,  for  there 
was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  place. 

When,  at  length,  the  last  awful  words  were 
uttered,  the  condemned  turned,  and  rapidly  left 
the  dock.  As  he  did  so,  a  piercing  scream  rang 
through  the  stillness.  The  veiled  lady  between 
Jacob  Dene  and  the  vicar  fell  swooning  to  the 
floor,  and  the  court  broke  up  in  a  tumult  of  excite- 
ment and  confusion. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

UNDER  SENTENCE  OF  DEATH. 

When  overhauling  the  debris  of  Jabez  Pryke's 
rifled  cash-box,  Jacob  Dene  came  upon  a  rough 
memorandum  of  the  remittances  received  by  the 
morning's  post  on  the  day  of  the  murder.  There 
were  Bank  of  England  notes  to  the  value  of  two 
hundred  pounds,  drafts  payable  at  sight  for 
upwards  of  five  or  six  hundred  more,  besides 
acceptances  for  various  amounts.  Payment  of 
the  notes  was  immediately  stopped,  although  no 
notification  to  this  effect  was  published.  This 
precaution  was  adopted  in  the  hope  that  the  thief 
— always  assuming  the  notes  to  be  stolen — might 
be  taken  off  his  guard,  and  therefore  induced  to 
present  them  for  payment. 

Their  disappearance  was  the   one  missing  link 
of  evidence  against  Jack  Heywood.     His  statement 


UNDER   SENTENCE    OF  DEATH.  171 

before  the  judge  coincided  entirely  with  the  theory 
that  these  notes  and  drafts  might  have  been  stolen 
by  a  third  person. 

Assuming,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  in 
some  aberration  of  intellect,  caused  by  his  mad 
drunkenness,  Jack  had  broken  into  the  counting- 
house  for  the  purpose  of  robbery,  that  he  had 
been  discovered  in  the  act  by  Jabez,  that  a 
deathly  struggle  had  then  ensued,  there  could  be 
no  possibility  of  doubt  of  the  fact  that  Jack  had 
been  actually  taken  prisoner  the  next  moment; 
hence,  had  he  stolen  the  notes  they  must  have 
been  found  upon  his  person,  or  about  him.  They 
were  not  found  upon  his  person,  nor  could  any 
trace  of  them  be  found  anywhere. 

That  he  might  have  had  a  drunken  quarrel  with 
Jabez,  that  a  struggle  might  have  occurred  which 
culminated  in  the  awful  catastrophe  which  had 
befallen,  was  possible,  and  even  probable ;  but 
that  the  lad  could  be  a  thief — his  whole  life  and 
character  gave  the  lie  to  so  improbable  a  sup- 
position. The  more  Jacob  Dene  thought  of  the 
matter,  the  more  he  gravitated  towards  the  con- 
clusion that  Jack  was  innocent.  But  what  of  that 
if  a  judge  and  jury  had  found  him  guilty  ?  He 
was  condemned  to  death,  and  every  day,  every 
hour,  brought  him  nearer  to  his  doom. 

Had  Jacob  needed  any  incentive  to  exertion,  he 
would  have  found  it  on  all  hands,  both  at  home 
and  abroad.  At  home,  from  morning  to  night, 
his  wife  and  his  granddaughter  dinned  into  his 


172  RACHEL  DENE. 

ears,  "Jack  Heywood  is  innocent,  and  must  bo 
saved." 

It  was  easy  enough  to  emit  that  imperative 
"  must,"  but  'twas  difficult  to  give  effect  to  it. 

On  Saturday,  as  the  foreman  of  the  mills  gave 
utterance  to  the  same  opinion,  when  the  hands 
knocked  off  for  the  half-holiday  at  noon  they 
mobbed  him.  The  result  was  that  a  mass  meeting 
was  held,  a  memorial  was  prepared  then  and 
there,  and  signed  by  every  soul  capable  of  signing 
a  name  or  making  a  mark ;  and  on  Monday  morn- 
ing Jacob  himself,  accompanied  by  Grainger,  the 
solicitor,  and  Kachel,  set  off  to  town,  taking  the 
memorial  with  them. 

Immediately  on  their  arrival  they  went  down  to 
the  House  of  Commons,  where  they  obtained  an 
interview  with  the  member  for  Barford,  who  took 
them  to  the  Home  Secretary's  private  room.  This 
important  functionary  promised  to  communicate 
with  the  judge  who  tried  the  case,  and  if  the 
circumstances  required  investigation,  to  give  the 
matter  consideration. 

"If  they  require  investigation!"  burst  out 
Rachel.  *'  They  do  demand  it,  sir.  An  innocent 
man  is  about  to  be  put  to  death,  and  thou  canst 
gave  him  !  " 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  replied  the  Secretary, 
"I  can  do  nothing  of  the  kind;  I  cannot  over- 
rule the  law.  People  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that 
I  am  all-powerful,  but  I  am  as  much  the  servant 
of  the  law  as  the  humblest  police  officer," 


UNDER  SENTENCE   OF  DEATH.  173 

"  But  he  is  innocent,  sir  !  " 

"I  have  been  told  that  of  many  murderers. 
The  other  day  I  was  assailed  with  a  general  howl 
of  execration  because  I  declined  to  interfere  with 
the  sentence  passed  on  a  cold-blooded  assassin, 
who,  within  an  hour  of  his  execution,  confessed 
that  he  had  murdered  his  victim  under  circum- 
stances of  unutterable  atrocity." 

"But  this  man  is  no  assassin.  He  is  the  best 
and  bravest  of  men.  He  loved  the  murdered  man 
from  childhood.  The  murderer  is  a  thief,  who 
stole  the  money,  and  Jack  Heywood  never  stole  a 
farthing  in  his  life." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  Home  Secretary,  "I 
promise  you  the  first  hour  I  can  spare  from  more 
pressing  duties." 

"  More  pressing !  "  interrupted  Eachel.  "  None 
can  be  so  pressing  as  this.     His  life  is  in  danger." 

"  The  prisoner  has  an  eloquent  advocate." 

"Nay,  not  an  eloquent,  but  an  earnest  one, 
sir,"  sobbed  Kachel.  "He  saved  my  life,  snatched 
me  from  the  jaws  of  death,  and  I  should  take 
shame  to  myself  were  I  to  pause  at  any  means  to 
save  him.  Oh,  do,  sir,  do,  pray,  see  to  it  at  once 
— now,  this  instant !  For  God's  sake,  save 
him  ! " 

"Have  you  the  papers  about  you?"  inquired 
the  Secretary  of  Grainger. 

"  They  are  here,  sir,"  said  he,  presenting  them. 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  look  over  them  to-night 
when  I  get  home ;  and  if  I  see  any  cause  for  in- 


174  RACHEL  DENE. 

terference  I  will  communicate  with  the  judge  at 


once." 


*'  May  we  see  thee  again,  sir  ?  "  inquired  Rachel. 

**  Hem,  I'm  not  quite  clear  about  that ;  the 
debate  on  the  Address  will  last  for  a  week  or  a 
fortnight.  Indeed,  I  ought  to  be  in  my  place  now. 
You  will  excuse  me." 

"  But  surely,  sir,  we  may  see  thee  again  ?  " 

**  On  the  whole,  I  think  you  had  better  not ; 
but,  on  my  honour,  the  matter  shall  have  im- 
mediate attention,  and  my  secretary  shall  acquaint 
you  with  the  result." 

With  this  cold  comfort,  he  left  them. 

It  was  now  Monday  night,  and  the  execution 
was  fixed  for  the  following  Monday. 

Six  days  from  doom  and  death  ! 

It  was  well  for  the  Home  Secretary  that  ho  had 
resolved  to  grant  no  further  interview,  for  this 
intractable  young  lady  haunted  the  Home  Office, 
morning,  noon,  and  night  for  the  next  two  days. 

Though  the  great  man  himself  was  unapproach- 
able, his  secretary  was  daily  visible.  He  alleged 
that  the  chief  had  looked  through  the  papers,  but 
could  not  decide  upon  the  matter  till  he  had 
heard  from  the  judge,  to  whom  he  had  already 
written. 

His  lordship  was  on  circuit. 

"  Where  is  his  lordship  ?  " 

"  At  York." 

"  We'll  go  there  at  once,  grandfather." 

**  It  will  be  useless ;  the  judge  will  not  see  us." 


UNDER  SENTENCE    OF  DEATH.  175 

"He  shall  see  us,  and  hear  us,  too!"  cried 
Eachel. 

It  was  idle  to  remonstrate  with  her,  and  to 
York  they  went  by  the  mail  train — Grainger 
and  all. 

It  was  two  o'clock  on  Thursday  morning  when 
they  reached  the  Anstruther  Hotel. 

By  daybreak  they  were  at  the  judge's  lodgings. 
They  might  as  well  have  stayed  in  town,  for  the 
judge  was  obdurate,  and  declined  to  see  them. 
That  day  Eachel  wrote  quires  of  letters  and  scores 
of  telegrams  to  his  lordship,  which  all  reached  the 
same  destination — the  waste-paper  basket. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  while  she  waited  im- 
patiently for  answers  which  never  came.  She 
could  not  eat,  or  drink,  or  sleep. 

Burning  with  a  fever  of  unrest,  at  sunrise  she 
hurried  out  for  a  walk.  Save  for  the  casual 
labourer  limping  towards  his  daily  toil,  or  the 
railway  porter  lazily  coming  towards  the  station, 
or  the  worn-out  night  policeman  crawling  home 
from  his  last  beat,  the  city  was  still  at  rest. 
Crossing  the  railway-station,  she  walked  down 
towards  the  Minster.  Contemplating  its  rare 
quaint  beauty  with  but  languid  interest,  she 
hurried  back  and  ascended  the  city  walls,  and 
strolled  towards  the  Barbican. 

It  was  now  Friday  morning.  Only  three  days 
more,  and  then 

What  was  Jack  doing  now  ?  Was  he  thinking 
of  her?     Did  he  know  that  she  was  devoting 


176  RACHEL  DENE, 

every  energy  of  blood,  and  Lone,  and  brain  to 
his  rescue  ?  Of  course  he  knew  that  she  beheved 
him  innocent ;  she  had  written  to  say  so ;  she 
had  told  the  old  people ;  she  had  told  everybody 
so  a  thousand  times. 

Three  days — only  three  days  ! 

By  this  time  she  had  crossed  the  Barbican,  and 
had  reached  the  walls  which  overhang  the  Con- 
vent. The  nuns  had  turned  forth  for  their  con- 
stitutional after  matins.  As  she  leant  down  to 
look  at  them,  they  melted  into  air,  and  she  saw, 
or  thought  she  saw,  a  prison — a  condemned  cell 
— a  face— his  face,  piteously,  but  speechlessly, 
appealing  to  her.  While  she  still  gazed,  the 
mirage  melted  into  the  morning  mist,  and  the 
mist  itself  faded  away  before  the  sun,  which  rose 
red  as  blood  from  behind  the  Convent. 

With  a  gesture  of  despair  she  threw  her  arms 
aloft,  crying,  "Oh,  God!  must  he  die?  Is  there 
no  help  ? — no  hope  ?  "  As  she  spoke  the  words, 
she  came  face  to  face  with  a  little  gentleman,  clad 
in  a  shabby,  old-fashioned  coat  and  vest,  with  a 
haggy  pair  of  Oxford-grey  continuations  somewhat 
too  short  for  his  stumpy  little  legs,  and  disclosing 
half  an  inch  of  white  stocking  between  their 
extremities  and  his  loose-tied  clumsy  shoes.  His 
body  was  too  small  for  his  head,  which  was  broad 
and  massive,  and  covered  with  a  thatch  of  snowy 
whiteness.  A  pair  of  shaggy  eyebrows,  black  as  a 
blacking-brush,  surmounted  the  eye  of  a  lynx,  the 
beak  of  an  eagle,  and  the  mouth  of  a  badger.     A 


UNDER  SENTENCE    OF  DEATH.  177 

huge  white  neckcloth  was  twisted  in  convoluted 
folds  round  his  neck — the  white  cambric  frill  of 
his  shirt  was  stained  with  snuff,  with  which  he  ever 
and  anon  furnished  his  nose  in  great  pinches  from 
his  vestcoat  pocket. 

To  complete  his  incongruous  appearance,  he 
wore  a  shabby  felt  parson's  hat,  pulled  down  over 
his  brows  after  the  fashion  of  the  Plantagenet 
period. 

This  gentleman's  face  w^as  cast  in  no  ordinary 
mould — once  seen,  it  was  not  easily  forgotten. 
She  had  seen  it  once  before.  Then  it  was  sur- 
rounded with  a  horse-hair  wig,  and  he  was  in  the 
act  of  placing  a  little  black  cap  upon  it ;  the  scene 
— the  voice — the  face — came  back  to  her  as  if  by 
inspiration. 

Throwing  herself  before  him,  she  cried,  "  God 
hath  not  brought  thee  here  for  nothing.  I  am 
Eachel  Dene !  The  man  condemned  to  death  at 
Leeds  a  little  while  ago  is  innocent !  Save  him, 
or  at  least  grant  time  for  his  innocence  to  be 
proved." 

The  old  gentleman  gave  a  long,  low  whistle, 
and  muttered  to  himself,  "Here's  a  pretty  kettle 
of  fish !  D d  hard  a  man  can't  take  a  con- 
stitutional or  look  at  a  pretty  girl  without  being 
let  in  for  an  arrangement  of  this  kind." 

Although  she  heard  him  mumbling,  she  could 
not  distinguish  a  word  of  what  he  said. 

**  Thou  dost  not  speak,"  she  continued.  "For 
God's  sake  give  me  some  hope." 


178  RACHEL  DENE. 

"I'm  not  clear,"  he  replied  sturdily,  ''that  I 
ought  not  to  commit  you  for  contempt  of  court  for 
sending  me  those  indiscreet  letters,  and  those 
audacious  telegrams ;  or,  at  least,  to  give  you  in 
charge  to  the  nearest  police  magistrate.  But  I 
never  could  say  no  to  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  in  my 
life ;  so  get  up,  pray,  lady,  and  dry  your  eyes,  and 
don't  snivel — zounds,  don't  snivel,  but  listen  !  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  sobbed  Eachel. 

"I  shall  be  in  town  to-morrow  night,  and  will 
see  the  Home  Secretary.  Beyond  that,  I  can 
say  nothing.  Though  the  heavens  should  fall, 
justice  shall  be  done — that,  and  nothing  more  or 
less." 

Then,  with  a  kind  of  grim,  cynical  humour,  he 
continued,  "Now  get  you  gone,  you  handsome 
hussy !  If  you  are  wise — though  I  suppose  it's 
idle  to  expect  a  woman  that's  pretty  to  be  prudent 
— forget  that  you  have  seen  me.  That'll  do. 
There,  you  needn't  kiss  my  hand." 

The  next  minute,  with  an  activity  beyond  his 
years,  the  old  gentleman  had  disappeared  down 
the  Barbican. 

When  she  returned  to  the  hotel,  Eachel  made 
an  attempt  at  breakfast — a  poor  one ;  still,  it  was 
an  attempt. 

"While  she  was  hesitating  how  to  break  the  ice 
for  the  journey,  Grainger  came  from  the  Castle 
•with  news  to  the  effect  that  the  assizes  would 
terminate  on  the  morrow,  and  that  the  judge 
would  return  to  town  that  night  by  the  express. 


UNDER  SENTENCE   OF  DEATH.  179 

**We  had  better  get  back  at  once,  grandpa'," 
said  Eacbel. 

So  to  town  they  went,  having  previously  tele- 
graphed Joan  and  Jasper  to  meet  them  at 
Wakefield,  when  they  paused  for  five  minutes  to 
tell  the  old  couple  that  every  effort  was  being 
made  for  the  reversal  of  the  sentence. 

Both  Jacob  Dene  and  Grainger  urged  upon  the 
Heywoods  not  to  buoy  up  Jack  with  false  hopes. 
Eachel,  however,  sent  her  assurance  of  his 
innocence,  and  off  they  sped  to  town. 

That  night  she  slept  a  little,  but  woke  at  day- 
break to  go  over  her  interview  with  the  judge,  to 
recall  his  words,  his  tones,  his  looks.  He  would 
be  in  town  to-night ;  and  then — then,  only  twenty- 
four  hours  more. 

Were  she  a  man  she  could  go  forth  amongst  the 
multitude  which  seethed  up  and  down  the  Strand 
beneath  the  windows  of  the  hotel.  Being  a  girl, 
she  could  only  sit  still  and  sufi"er — no,  not  sit  still, 
for  she  paced  wildly  to  and  fro.  They  tried  to 
console  her ;  but  she  had  no  thought  for  any  one 
save  the  man  who  lay  under  sentence  of  death 
down  yonder. 

At  length  night  came,  and  with  it  came  a  cruel, 
crawling  fog,  which  wrapped  the  busy  thoroughfare 
in  darkness,  through  which  only  a  gleam  of  some 
funereal  torch  could  be  seen,  while  a  roar  of  hoarse 
voices  arose  from  the  pandemonium  beneath. 
Presently  the  fog  penetrated  into  the  very  room 
in  which  they  sat,  peopling  it  with  phantoms.    It 


i8o  RACHEL  DENE, 

was  in  vain  that  Jacob  Dene  piled  the"  huge  grate 
with  fuel ;  the  fog  remained  triumphant,  and  they 
could  scarcely  see  to  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

By-and-by,  Grainger  glided  in,  grim,  and  grey, 
and  ghastly. 

"  The  train  has  been  two  hours  late,"  he  gasped 
hoarsely;  "but  the  judge  has  arrived,  and  has 
driven  home  to  Berkeley  Square." 

"  Will  he  not  see  the  Home  Secretary  to-night  ?  " 

**  It  is  now  eleven ;  and  to  venture  out  again  in 
such  a  fog  as  this  would  be  to  tamper  with  his  life." 

"  His  life  ! — his  / "  At  that  moment  she  thought 
of  only  one  life  in  the  world. 

Dawn  broke  cold  and  wet,  and  the  hours  sped 
faster  and  faster  still,  till  the  sun  gave  place  to 
shade. 

Night  was  falling  on  Kirkdale  Gaol. 

With  beating  hearts,  Jasper  and  Joan  Heywood 
■were  taking  their  last  leave  of  the  lad  they  loved 
so  well,  when  Eachel  Dene  burst  into  the  prison, 
bearing  the  news  that  his  punishment  was  com- 
muted to  penal  servitude  for  life ! 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

PRISON   WALLS. 

When  the  news  reached  Calais  that  Heywood's 
life  had  been  spared,  it  exercised  a  salutary  effect 
on  the  young  Earl's  health. 
Ealph  got  better  daily,  and  in  about  a  month's 


PRISON   WALLS.  18 1 

time  he  was  well  enough  to  return  to  England. 
While  he  was  travelling  to  town  hy  the  tidal  train, 
Jack  Heywood  was  travelling  in  the  same  direction 
from  another  point  of  departure.  The  Earl  was 
fashionably  attired,  and  a  first-class  saloon  car 
was  reserved  for  him  and  his  friends.  Jack  was 
clad  in  a  hideous  suit  of  home-spun,  marked  with 
the  broad  arrow,  and  he  and  his  friends — upwards 
of  four  and  twenty  of  the  greatest  ruffians  in 
England — were  securely  handcuffed  to  each  other, 
and  packed  like  cattle  into  a  fourth-class  compart- 
ment. 

Our  hero's  journey  was  uneventful  enough,  save 
for  one  incident.  To  be  sure,  his  new  acquaint- 
ances beguiled  the  time  with  conversation  full  of 
obscenity  and  blas^Dhemy ;  but,  as  far  as  he  was 
concerned,  they  might  have  been  talking  in  an 
unknown  tongue.  He  sat  near  the  window,  and 
looked  listlessly  at  the  ever-changing  panorama  as 
the  train  whirled  by  ;  but  neither  sight  nor  sound 
made  the  least  impression  on  his  darkened  brain. 

At  last,  however,  he  heard  the  cry  of  '*  Don- 
caster  !  "  and  at  the  same  sound  he  awoke  with 
a  shudder  of  horror.  In  an  instant  it  all  came 
back  to  him.  That  fatal  Leger — the  Grand  Stand 
— the  drink — the  fight — her  pale  face,  with  its 
disdainful  and  reproachful  look.  Jabez,  too ! 
There  was  the  refreshment-room  opposite — where 
he  had  smashed  the  champagne  bottles.  Strange, 
too,  the  very  girl  who  waited  behind  the  bar  then 
was  now  drawing  tea  from  an  urn. 


1 82  RACHEL  DENE. 

As  he  looked  forth,  she  canght  sight  of  him.  He 
shrank  back,  and  hid  himself  in  the  corner — hut 
it  "was  too  late  ;  she  had  seen  him. 

The  first  bell  rang.  The  passengers  streamed 
out  of  the  room  and  into  the  train.  The  girl  came 
running  out  with  a  cup  of  tea  in  one  hand  and  a 
jug  of  milk  in  the  other. 

Approaching  the  carriage,  she  said  to  Jack, 
"  Sup,  lad  !  It'll  not  scald  thee  ;  see,  this  is  new 
milk." 

His  heart  came  to  his  mouth  with  a  jump,  and 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  ruffianly  eyes  upon  him, 
he  could  have  cried  like  a  child. 

As  it  was,  he  gulped  down  his  emotion,  and  said, 
"Nay,  thank  ye ;  I  cannot  drink  !  " 

"  But  you  must !  "  replied  the  girl;  "you  will, 
to  please  me." 

He  took  the  tea,  and  drank  it. 

**  God  bless  thee,  lass  !  "  he  gasjDed. 

"  God  bless  thee,  too,  lad ! "  she  responded, 
*'  and  bring  thee  safe  through." 

The  ruffians  around  were  subdued  to  silence,  and 
tears  came  from  more  than  one  case-hardened 
heart  as  the  train  glided  away  towards  Peter- 
borough. 

When  they  got  to  King's  Cross  the  van  awaited 
them,  and  they  were  driven  rapidly  to  Brixton. 
On  their  arrival  at  the  prison,  they  were  shunted 
into  an  open  space  for  examination  by  the  officials. 

Their  irons  were  now  taken  off,  and  they  were 
checked    and    counted    like    so  many  beasts   of 


PRISON   WALLS.  183 

burthen.  A  receipt  was  given  for  them,  and  a 
soldierly  man,  in  an  undress  military  uniform, 
read  the  prison  rules  in  a  harsh  voice,  especially 
impressing  upon  the  new  arrivals  that  they  must 
observe  perpetual  silence  towards  each  other,  and 
that  any  breach  of  discipline  would  entail  so  many 
days  upon  the  crank,  accompanied  by  bread  and 
water. 

The  intelligence  was  received  with  a  growl  that 
was  peremptorily  suppressed. 

Then  the  warder  selected  Jack  and  a  fellow- 
prisoner  about  the  same  height,  and  beckoned 
them  to  follow  into  a  large  shed,  inside  which  they 
found  a  bath-room.  Here  they  were  ordered  to 
strip,  and  get  into  the  bath.  Jack's  companion 
evidently  understood  the  process.  At  any  rate, 
he  stripped  from  head  to  foot,  plunged  in  and  out 
again  on  the  other  side,  and  slipped  into  a  new 
suit  of  prison  clothes,  marked  with  a  number,  and 
certain  hieroglyphics  known  to  the  initiated. 

At  first.  Jack  was  disposed  to  kick  at  this 
revolting  business,  but,  finding  the  water  clean, 
and  that  he  was  surrounded  by  half  a  dozen 
stalwart  six-footers,  he  concluded  not  to  resist. 
"When  he  had  finished  his  ablutions,  he  was  con- 
ducted to  his  cell,  an  apartment  four  feet  wide,  by 
seven  feet  long,  and  seven  feet  high.  A  small 
pane  of  glass  from  the  inside,  and  a  somewhat 
larger  from  the  outside,  lighted  up  the  place, 
discovering  a  hammock,  mattress,  a  blanket, 
and  a  pair  of  sheets,  some  straps  and  hooks,  a 


1 84  RACHEL  DENE. 

stool,  a  pannikin,  a  copper  washing-basin,  and  a 
Bible. 

The  warder  under  whose  charge  he  was  placed, 
said,  '*  You  seem  a  decent  chap,  and  are  not  up 
to  this  game ;  take  a  straight  tip — if  you  want  to 
do  your  time  easy,  and  shorten  your  stretch,  keep 
your  crib  clean  as  a  new  pin;  don't  talk,  don't 
grumble,  do  what  you're  told,  and,  above  all,  don't 
ask  any  questions.  Baggin  will  be  round  in  half 
an  hour,  and  you  can  turn  in  to  roost  for  the 
night." 

The  door  closed  with  a  bang,  was  locked,  barred, 
and  bolted,  and  Jack  was  alone,  or  rather  he 
thought  he  was ;  but  just  as  he  had  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  that,  at  any  rate,  he  was  rid  of  his 
loathsome  companions,  he  heard  a  scratching  noise 
from  the  other  side  of  the  partition  to  his  cell. 
Presently  the  sound  was  repeated — there  came  a 
scratch  from  the  other  side,  and  another.  He 
didn't  know  what  to  make  of  it. 

At  last  a  voice  whispered,  "  Mate,  are  you  one 
of  the  new  chums  ?  " 

Before  he  could  reply,  from  the  other  side  came 
the  inquiry,  "  Mate,  do  you  come  from  the  smoke 
or  the  steel  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand,"  he  replied. 

"Don't  you?  Then  where  the  blazes  do  you 
come  from  ?  " 

**  Yorkshire,"  he  replied. 

"  Yorkshire?"  continued  his  interlocutor.  **  The 
Yorkshire  tykes  are  the  downiest  coves  in  the  gang. 


PRISON   WALLS.  185 

In  course,  you've  got  some  stuff?  Sling  us  a 
wing !  " 

*' A  wing?" 

"A  pinch  of  stuff!" 

"What  stuff?" 

''What  stuff  ?    Why,  baccy,  to  be  sure !  " 

**  I  haven't  got  any  !  " 

"  You  Yorkshire  ?    Why,  you're  a  regular  wing !  " 

This  interesting  colloquy  was  interrupted  by  a 
loud,  strident  voice. 

"  What's  this  ?  What's  this  ?  Prisoners  talk- 
ing against  regulations  !  No.  91,  I  shall  report 
you  to-morrow  !     Here's  your  baggln  !  " 

With  that,  the  door  was  unbolted,  and  an 
attendant  threw  a  lump  of  bread  and  a  can  of  hot 
cocoa  into  Jack's  hands.  By  this  time  Jack  was 
hungry,  so  he  devoured  it  eagerly.  Half  an  hour 
afterwards  he  got  out  his  hammock,  and  slung  it. 
Five  minutes  later  he  fell  fast  asleep ;  body  and 
soul  were  wearied  out.  When,  at  last,  he  awoke, 
he  could  scarcely  realize  where  he  was ;  but  the 
next  minute  it  was  all  clear  enough.  He  was  a 
prisoner  for  life.  For  life  ! — for  life  !  How  could 
he  ever  live  through  it  ? 

It  was  now  broad  day,  and  the  warder  opened 
the  door. 

"Attention,  No.  91!"  he  said,  in  a  whisper. 
"  I'm  not  a-going  to  report  you  for  last  night,  but 
mind  it  don't  happen  again  !  If  you  behave  your- 
self, I'll  get  you  put  on  a  good  gang  among  some 
decent  fellows." 


IS6  RACHEL  DENE. 

At  this  moment  the  bell  struck  four. 
"■  Now  pack  up  your  traps  !  It  only  requires  a 
little  knack ;  I'll  show  you  how  to  do  it.  That's 
your  sort !  In  half  an  hour  baggin  will  be  served 
out ;  then  you've  an  hour  to  do  what  you  like  with 
before  chapel." 

As  yet,  Jack  retained  his  appetite,  and  he  did 
ample  justice  to  his  bread  and  cocoa.  "When 
chapel  time  came,  he  was  ordered  to  fall  in 
amongst  a  hundred  or  more  men,  of  all  sorts, 
shapes,  and  sizes,  all  clad  in  the  same  hideous 
uniform  of  crime — all  with  cropped  heads  and 
clipped  beards ;  some  with  foreheads  villainously 
low,  and  the  furtive,  restless  eye  of  the  habitual 
criminal;  some  with  features  and  demeanours 
which  spoke  of  refinement,  but  few  of  remorse. 
All  regarded  him  with  eager,  anxious  eyes. 
He  looked,  endeavouring  vainly  to  descry  some 
of  the  companions  of  yesterday's  journey;  but 
evidently  they  were  locked  in  another  part  of  the 
prison. 

As  the  word  "  Fall  in — quick  march  !  "  was 
given,  they  went  sharply  down  the  corridor  towards 
the  chapel. 

The  service  was  somewhat  inarticulately  set 
forth  by  a  sandy-haired  youth,  evidently  not  yet  out 
of  his  first  sleep.  At  a  signal  the  pious  congrega- 
tion fell  upon  their  knees  and  began  to  murmur 
the  responses;  then  on  either  side  of  the  new- 
comer, under  cover  of  their  prayer-books,  the 
thieves  whisper  in  half  a  dozen  dissonant  voices. 


PRISON   WALLS,  187 

"  Are  you  a  new  chum  ?  "  "  How  long  have  you 
got?"  "Are  you  a  lifer?  or  is  it  only  a  few 
years'  stretch  ?  "     "  What  are  you  in  for  ?  " 

These  were  something  like  the  words,  denuded 
of  the  blasphemy  by  which  they  were  preceded 
and  followed. 

Being  a  man  of  the  people,  Jack  had  been 
accustomed  to  hear  his  friends  garnish  their  daily 
talk  with  strong  adjectives  and  other  ornaments  of 
speech,  but  the  filth  and  obscenity  which  now 
assailed  his  ears  made  every  drop  of  decent  blood 
in  his  body  boil  with  a  loatliing  he  could  not  con- 
ceal. Truly  the  House  of  God  seemed  changed  to 
a  Gehenna. 

After  chapel  he  was  taken  before  the  doctor,  who 
examined  him  as  to  his  bodily  health  ;  then  before 
the  curate,  who  examined  him  as  to  his  health 
spiritual;  after  that  he  was  conducted  to  the 
prison-barber,  who  cropped  his  head  close  to  his 
poll,  but  spared  his  virgin  beard,  which,  in  truth, 
was  only  just  beginning  to  sprout ;  then  he  was 
taken  before  the  Governor,  who  was  fortunately  a 
soldier  and  a  gentleman. 

He  took  stock  of  the  new  prisoner,  gave  him 
permission  to  write  home,  which  he  did  at  once, 
and  handed  the  letter  to  the  warder  for  govern- 
mental inspection.  The  warder,  in  his  turn,  took 
stock  of  Jasper's  address,  with  results  to  be  here- 
after chronicled. 

When  the  letter  was  despatched  Jack  was 
ordered  out  for  exercise.     He  prowled  round  and 


iS8  RACHEL  DENE. 

round  the  yard,  following  a  shambling  lot  of  gaol 
birds,  who,  despite  the  presence  of  the  officer  on 
guard,  tried  to  incite  him  to  conversation.  He 
had  no  heed  for  them ;  he  had  only  one  thought — 
escape.  But  as  he  looked  at  the  huge  walls, 
surrounded  with  their  impregnable  buttresses ;  the 
iron-barred  windows ;  the  massive,  iron-bound, 
oaken  doors,  trebly  barred  and  bolted,  hope  died 
away  in  his  heart. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  day,  and  he  was  now 
taken  to  join  the  new  company  to  which  by  the 
Governor's  order  he  was  allotted.  In  a  large 
central  hall,  on  stools  apart  from  each  other,  sat 
forty  or  fifty  men,  variously  emiDloyed  ;  some  were 
mending  clothes ;  some,  very  old  men,  were  knit- 
ting stockings  ;  other  men,  apparently  of  a  superior 
class,  were  colouring  maps  at  a  bench  set  apart 
for  the  purpose.  To  the  last  detachment  he  was 
conducted,  and  as  this  was  a  sort  of  thing  to  which 
he  was  accustomed,  he  soon  polished  off  his  work, 
and  paused  to  take  stock  of  his  companions. 

Despite  the  regulation  as  to  silence,  and  the 
repeated  interference  of  the  warders,  these  men 
were  as  communicative  as  they  were  inquisitive. 
One  vouchsafed  the  information  that  he  was  a 
barrister,  who,  in  a  moment  of  aberration  of 
intellect,  confounded  a  friend's  signature  with  his 
own ;  another  alleged  that  he  had  been  a  banker, 
who  had  made  indiscreet  speculations ;  a  third  was 
an  author  who  had  a  misfortune ;  a  fourth  a  sea- 
captain  who  was  a  victim  to  a  conspiracy  on  the 


PRISON   WALLS.  189 

part  of  some  unknown  seamen ;  some  alleged  they 
were  innocent ;  others,  on  the  contrary,  boasted  of 
their  guilt. 

Presently  they  were  all  ordered  to  return  to  their 
cells  for  the  midday  meal,  which  consisted  of 
meat,  bread,  and  potatoes.  A  couple  of  hours' 
rest  followed,  for  those  who  were  so  disposed ;  but 
for  Jack  there  was  no  rest.  Was  there  no  means 
of  escape  ?  he  asked  himself  again  and  again.  He 
would  find  a  way,  or  make  one. 

Were  they  thinking  of  him  at  home  ?  he  won- 
dered. Of  course  they  were;  there  could  be  no 
doubt  about  that.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  more- 
over, that  they  believed  in  his  innocence.  But 
she — did  she  believe  him  innocent  ?  He  thought 
she  did ;  indeed,  he  knew  in  his  heart  of  hearts 
she  did.  He  thought,  too,  that  she  might  have 
loved  him  if  he  only  had  had  the  chance  to  woo 
and  win  her ;  but  no,  it  was  all  over  ! 

Another  bell,  afternoon  work,  the  evening  meal, 
then  locked  up  for  the  night. 

Presently  a  warder  came  round  with  orders. 

**  Put  your  brooms  under  the  door  for  candles." 

Looking  down,  he  saw  a  gap  of  some  four  inches 
between  the  door  and  the  floor.  Instinctively  he 
shoved  forth  his  broom,  and  a  lighted  candle  was 
shoved  into  his  cell  by  a  convict  who  accompanied 
the  warder.  The  door  was  slammed  and  locked, 
and  they  passed  on. 

The  schoolmaster  had  given  him  "  Sir  John 
Mandeville's  Travels  "  to  read.     He  tried  to   in- 


190  RACHEL  DENE. 

terest  himself  in  the  quaint  old  mariner's  story, 
but  the  letters  danced  up  and  down  before  him, 
for  his  heart  was  far  away. 

The  candle  fell  upon  the  floor.  Even  the  light 
had  been  a  companion,  and  now  that  it  was  out  he 
was  alone  with  his  sad  thoughts  and  his  despair. 

Amidst  the  silence  came  the  crafty  scratch  of 
the  night  before  on  the  iron  partition  which  sepa- 
rated him  from  his  neighbour.  This  time  he 
scratched  in  reply.  Quick  as  thought  came  the 
thieves'  whisper  he  was  beginning  to  understand. 

''Mate?" 

"Well?" 

"What  have  you  doused  the  glim  for  ?  '' 

"  It  fell  down  and  went  out." 

"  Then  sling  it  under  the  door,  here  to  the 
right." 

"What  for?" 

"What  for!  Why,  you  don't  suppose  I  want 
to  curl  my  hair  with  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"  But  you  have  a  light  burning  ?  " 

"  In  course  I  have.  But  I  don't  want  yonr*n  for 
burning ;  I  want  it  for  eating.  I  am  that  'ungry, 
I  could  eat  a  bullock  !  " 

Jack  couldn't  withstand  this  appeal,  and  he 
slung  out  his  candle  to  his  voracious  neighbour, 
who  scraped  it  into  his  cell  with  his  broom,  whis- 
pering, "  Jolly  good  luck  to  you,  Yorkshire ;  if 
ever  you're  up  a  tree,  and  I  can  give  you  a  lift, 
count  on  Ginger !  " 

Presently  came  the  last  bell,  and  the  prison  was 


PRISON   WALLS,  191 

at  rest.  Fortunately,  tired  nature  took  compas- 
Bion  upon  poor  Jack,  who  for  a  time  forgot  his 
troubles  in  the  blest  nepenthe  of  sleep. 

Thus  passed  a  week  or  more  in  the  dreary 
routine  of  prison  life,  until  a  letter  came  from 
Deepdale,  so  soft,  so  tender,  and  so  sacred,  that 
it  inspired  him  with  hope.  Were  all  the  world  in 
arms  against  him,  he  was  sure  of  the  love  of  those 
two  fond  and  faithful  hearts.  She,  too,  had  been 
to  inquire  after  him;  she  still  believed  him  inno- 
cent. Ah,  there  was  some  comfort  left ;  and  after 
all,  he  was  young,  and  life  was  strong  within  him  ; 
but,  indeed,  it  was  his  ever-abounding  vitality 
which,  apart  from  the  degradation,  made  prison 
life  so  hateful  to  him. 

Jones,  the  friendly  warder,  took  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  informing  him  that  he,  too,  had  heard 
from  Jasper  Heywood,  who  had  sent  him  money. 
This  was  news  indeed !  If  Jack  liked  he  could 
have  "stuff"  (tobacco).  He  didn't  care  for 
**  stuff ; "  but  Jones  thought  a  little  might  bo 
desirable  to  conciliate  his  neighbours,  this  being 
the  luxury  most  prayed  by  these  unhappy  wretches. 
Tobacco  was  accordingly  got,  and  Jack  doled  it 
out  liberally  amongst  his  immediate  chums,  with 
the  result  that  "Yorkshire"  became  amazingly 
popular,  more  especially  with  a  certain  sandy- 
haired  gent,  with  a  twist  in  his  eye,  who  confi- 
dentially informed  him  that  he  was  "Ginger,"  his 
next  door  neighbour. 

Thanks  to  the  underground  communication  thus 


192  RACHEL  DENE, 

established,  through  Jones,  Jack  was  enabled  to 
write  home  once  a  week,  and  got  an  answer  the 
next. 

He  was  glad  to  hear  that  the  invention  was  a 
great  and  pronounced  success,  and  that  Jacob 
Dene  had  behaved  most  handsomely  in  the  matter. 
Every  week  a  considerable  sum  was  placed  in  the 
bank  to  Jasper  Heywood's  account,  who  held  it  in 
trust  for  Jack. 

By  this  time  he  had  grown  tired  of  colouring 
maps,  so  he  asked  and  obtained  permission  for 
active  work,  and  was  put  at  the  head  of  the  build- 
ing gang. 

One  day  the  Governor  called  him. 

"No.  91,"  said  he,  "you  have  a  clean  slate  and 
a  good  record,  without  a  single  black  mark.  Every 
good  mark  goes  towards  the  remission  of  your 
sentence;  and,  if  you  mind  what  you  are  about, 
it  will  be  remitted  to  five  and  twenty  years,  perhaps 
even  less.     Think  of  that." 

He  did  think  of  it ;  he  thought  of  nothing  else 
by  day  or  night.  Five  and  twenty  years  !  It  might 
as  well  be  five  and  twenty  thousand  !  Long  before 
five  years  had  passed,  Eachel  Dene  would  be 
married  to  Ealph  Hollis,  perhaps  the  mother  of 
Ealph's  children.  There  was  madness  in  the  very 
thought. 

If  he  could  get  out — if  he  could  only  see  her — 
speak  to  her ! 

Time  was  getting  on,  days  had  lengthened  into 
weeks,  weeks  into  months,  months  were  crawling 


ANOTHER   CHANGE.  193 

up  until  tliG  end  of  the  year  was  at  hand — the  end 
of  the  period  when  Jack  Hey  wood  would  have  passed 
his  probation  at  Brixton,  and  be  transferred  to 
Portland,  Portsmouth,  or  Dartmoor.  From  those 
penal  settlements  escape  was  impossible  ! 


CHAPTER  XXir. 

ANOTHER  CHANGE. 

At  last  one  day  the  Black  Maria  drove  up  to  the 
door  of  Brixton  Gaol,  and  a  tall,  gaunt  man,  clad 
in  convict's  garb,  and  heavily  ironed  on  either 
hand  to  two  armed  warders,  slipped  out  of  the 
]3rison  into  the  van,  followed  by  a  third  officer. 

No  one,  not  even  Joan  Heywood,  would  have 
recognized  the  prisoner,  but  the  convict  in  question 
was  No.  91 — in  other  words,  Jack  Heywood. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  railway-station,  he  and  his 
guards  were  rapidly  conducted  to  a  compartment 
especially  reserved  for  them ;  the  third  officer 
returned  to  the  booking-office,  took  four  tickets, 
despatched  a  telegram,  rejoined  his  friends  laden 
with  newspapers  and  refreshments,  solid  and 
liquid. 

Tickets  were  duly  examined,  the  bell  rang,  and 
off  went  the  train. 

"Now,  No.  91,"  said  the  officer  in  charge,  play- 
fully, "we  don't  want  to  make  matters  more  dis- 
agreeable than  is  necessary.     Them  revolvers  are 

0 


194  RACHEL  DENE. 

loaded;  we  shan't  use  the  things  unless  we're 
obleeged,  but  we've  got  to  hand  you  over  alive  or 
dead  at  Dartmoor.     Which  is  to  be  ?  " 

"I  don't  care  which,"  replied  Jack,  listlessly. 

"Oh,  that's  all  nonsense!  You're  only  a  lad 
yourself,  and  while  there's  life  there's  hope ;  you 
don't  know  what  may  turn  up.  Anyhow,  what  I've 
got  to  say  is  this  :  If  you'll  give  us  your  word  not 
to  try  no  tricks  with  us,  we'll  take  them  bracelets 
off  your  wrists,  and  you  can  smoke  your  pipe,  and 
read  the  papers,  and  enjoy  yourself;  and  if  you 
like  to  make  one  at  a  game  of  *  nap,'  why  I  sha'n't 
say  no." 

**  Take  these  cursed  things  off,"  replied  Jack, 
''and  I  pledge  you  my  word  I'll  ne'er  trouble 
you!" 

As  much  to  the  relief  of  Jack's  captors  as  him- 
self, the  handcuffs  were  taken  off. 

"Have  a  smoke  ?"  inquired  the  affable  officer. 

*•  No,  thanks." 

"  Have  the  paper,  then  ?  " 

"  Thanks ! " 

He  took  the  paper,  and  glanced  over  it  listlessly. 
There  was  nothing  in  it  to  interest  him,  so  he 
looked  through  the  window. 

As  he  took  in  the  ever-changing  beauty  of  hill 
and  dale,  of  wood  and  water,  his  thoughts  reverted 
to  the  peaceful  Yorkshire  valley,  the  village 
churchyard  where  his  mother  lay  sleeping,  and 
the  old  house  at  home,  and  those  who  loved  him 
there. 


ANOTHER   CHANGE.  195 

"  What  is  the  reason  I  have  not  heard  from  my 
grandfather?"  he  inquired  abruptly. 

"I  don't  know,"  repHed  one  of  the  men. 

"Look  here,  lads!"  said  Jack,  eagerly;  "I'vo 
got  twenty  pounds  !  " 

'*  The  devil  you  have !  Why,  you've  been 
searched  over  and  over  again !  How  did  you 
manage  to  hide  it  ?  " 

"Never  mind;  that's  my  business!  I'll  give 
you  ten  pounds  of  it  if  you'll  post  me  a  letter  !  " 

"  Hand  it  over,  then  !  "  said  the  officer,  smiHng 
at  his  comrades. 

Extracting  a  twenty-pound  Bank  of  England 
note  from  the  lining  of  his  jacket,  Jack  handed  it 
over  to  the  officer,  who  said  quietly,  "  I'll  get 
change  at  the  next  station." 

When  he  got  to  the  station  he  jumped  out, 
changed  the  note  at  the  booking-office  for  ten 
sovereigns  and  ten-pound  note,  and  bought  at  the 
bookstall  a  couple  of  sheets  of  note-paper,  an 
envelope,  an  automatic  pencil ;  then  he  bought  a 
bottle  of  whisky  in  the  refreshment-room,  and, 
thus  armed,  returned  to  the  carriage. 

"  There  you  are.  No.  91 ;  there's  your  tenner ! 
Now,  Tom,  there's  three  pound  for  you  ;  three  for 
you,  Dick ;  three  for  this  child ;  and  another  for 
the  party  who  negotiated  the  transaction!  Now 
just  a  taste  to  wet  the  bargain !  " 

Then  he  opened  the  bottle  of  whisky,  and  sent 
it  round,  returned  to  his  pipe  and  his  game  of 
nap,   while  Jack  wrote  his  letter.      It   occupied 


196  RACHEL  DENE, 

him  some  time,  and  took  him  a  little  out  of  his 
trouble. 

When  he  had  finished  and  sealed  it,  he  gave 
it  to  the  officer,  who  faithfully  undertook  to 
post  it. 

The  journey  was  long  and  fatiguing  to  the 
officers,  but  Jack  could  have  wished  it  twice  as 
long,  for  it  was  still  a  glimpse  of  freedom,  the  last 
he  would  have  for  many  a  day.  The  warders  grew 
very  jolly  over  their  pipes  and  whisky,  and,  at  last, 
they  prepared  their  dinner,  and  invited  Jack  to 
join  them,  which  he  did. 

Even  a  warder  is  a  man — that  is,  when  he's  not 
on  duty ;  and  as  these  fellows  began  to  talk  about 
house  and  home,  and  wife  and  bairns.  Jack's  heart 
softened  to  them.  Their  jollity  was  contagious. 
He  thought  he  would  like  a  pipe  ;  they  gave  him 
one,  and  as  he  saw  the  blue  fumes  ascending,  and 
the  blue  waves  toying  with  the  bosom  of  the  white 
shore,  or  coyly  kissing  the  bases  of  the  crimson 
tors,  he  remembered  that,  after  all,  he  was  only 
three  and  twenty;  that  there  are  many  years 
betwixt  that  and  three  score  and  ten ;  that  while 
there's  life  there's  hope ;  and  finally,  that  time  and 
he  were  a  match  against  any  other  two. 

Night  was  falling  when  they  reached  Portland, 
manacled  together,  as  they  were  at  the  beginning 
of  the  journey. 

His  last  words  before  they  entered  the  prison 
were,  "  You  won't  forget  the  letter  ?  " 

The  officer  nodded.     Some  writing  took  place, 


ANOTHER   CHANGE,  197 

and  some  official  documents  were  exchanged. 
While  this  was  being  done,  one  of  the  officials  said 
to  the  officer  in  charge,  "  I  scarcely  know  where  to 
put  him,  for  there's  been  the  devil  to  pay  within 
the  past  few  days  !  There's  been  a  mutiny — had 
to  call  in  the  sojers — and  some  of  the  ringleaders 
are  going  to  catch  toko  to-morrow.  I  expect 
they'll  get  it  hot,  for  our  old  man  won't  stand  any 
nonsense  !  Let  me  see,  Jackson,"  he  continued  ; 
"you  must  put  the  prisoner  into  cell  No.  171.  We 
can  arrange  about  his  billet  to-morrow;  it's  too 
late  to-night." 

Jack  shook  hands  with  his  friendly  escort,  whis- 
pered once  more  "  The  letter  !  "  and  was  led  to  his 
oell,  where  he  soon  fell  fast  asleep. 

He  awoke  refreshed.  To  his  astonishment,  he 
was  not  called  up  as  early  as  usual.  Habit  had, 
however,  become  second  nature,  and  up  he  jumped. 
As  soon  as  he  was  stirring  came  the  usual  scratch- 
ing on  either  side,  and  the  usual  inquiries  from 
unknown  companions. 

From  these  interlocutors  he  gathered  corrobo- 
ration of  the  officer's  story  about  the  mutiny.  One 
or  two  of  the  ringleaders  had  been  shot  down ; 
others  were  to  be  stripped  up  to  the  triangles  that 
morning. 

Presently  breakfast  was  served ;  the  men,  how- 
ever, in  this  part  of  the  prison,  were  all  confined  to 
their  cells — an  unusual  occurrence,  which  was 
explained,  however,  later  on,  when  the  cracks  of 
the  cat,  and  the  shrieks  of  the  wretches  under  the 


198  RACHEL  DENE, 

lash,  rang  through  the  corridors.  At  the  sound  of 
a  punishment,  a  chorus  of  sympathy  arose  from 
every  cell,  and  filled  the  place. 

"  Silence  there  !  "  roared  a  strident  voice. 

Every  man  was  silent,  for  he  knew  not  whose 
turn  might  be  next.  The  door  of  Jack's  cell  was 
suddenly  unlocked ;  the  same  voice  called  out 
"No.  91,  step  out.  Eight  about  face — quick 
march !  " 

Following  his  guide  past  the  quadrangle,  he  saw 
a  sight  which  he  never  forgot,  which  he  never  will 
forget  to  his  dying  day. 

In  the  centre  of  the  square  three  half-naked 
men,  tied  up  to  the  triangles,  were  writhing  and 
shrieking  beneath  the  cat,  which  was  being  vigor- 
ously applied  to  their  bare  backs.  A  company  of 
soldiers,  armed  with  guns  and  bayonets,  formed 
round  the  square.  Ten  or  twelve  men  were  being 
led  half-flayed  alive  to  their  cells,  or,  presumably, 
to  the  infirmary. 

These,  then,  were  the  mutineers ;  and  an  awful 
set  of  ruffians  they  looked.  As  they  staggered 
along,  their  yells  of  agony  and  their  revolting 
blasphemies  filled  the  air.  At  this  moment  Jack 
almost  canoned  against  a  convict  with  a  black  face 
and  a  bag  of  soot  thrown  over  his  shoulder. 

"  You  here,  Yorkshire  ?  "  said  a  familiar  voice. 
"  I  thought  you'd  taken  your  hook." 

"  Ginger  !  "  exclaimed  Jack. 

"  Yes,  Ginger.  Brixton  was  purgatory ;  but  this 
is  hell !  " 


ANOTHER  CHANGE.  199 

"  Silence ! "  roared  the  officer,  and  the  man 
passed  on. 

When  Jack  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  a 
stern  military-looking  man  of  three  score  and 
upwards,  he  brought  himself  to  attention,  and 
executed  the  requisite  salute. 

**  Name  and  register  ? "  demanded  the  Go- 
vernor's clerk. 

"Name,  Heywood ;  I  have  no  register  yet," 
replied  Jack. 

*'  Officer,  see  that  this  man  has  a  register. 
Prisoner,  we  have  a  good  record  in  your  favour 
from  Brixton,  so  we'll  give  you  a  chance.  Only 
mind,  no  nonsense ;  you've  seen  how  we  deal  with 
mutiny  here.     Take  him  away." 

The  next  moment  he  was  led  out  of  the  office, 
and  conducted  towards  the  bath-room.  The  water 
looked  cleaner ;  besides,  as  he  had  it  all  to  himself, 
he  rather  enjoyed  it  than  otherwise.  Ten  minutes 
later  he  found  himself  in  a  room  filled  with  photo- 
graphs of  prisoners.  Here  he  encountered  Ginger 
disguised  in  a  clean  face.  He  had  had  his 
photograph  taken  twice,  once  in  his  prison  dress, 
and  once  in  a  kind  of  nondescript  civilian  costume, 
which  comprised  in  one  and  the  same  garment, 
coat,  vest,  shirt,  neck-cloth. 

"  Ha,  Yorkshire  !  "  said  the  voice  of  Ginger ; 
**  come  to  have  your  pictur'  taken  ?  Mine's  first 
rate.  I'm  goin'  to  ax  the  cove  to  let  me  have  one 
to  send  home  to  the  old  ooman." 

"Silence  !— clear  out !  "  said  a  warder. 


200  RACHEL  DENE. 

Ginger      disappeared,     and     another     convict 
emerged  from  the  inner  room. 

"  This  way,"  said  the  warder,  as  he  led  Jack  to 
the  studio. 

The  photographer,  who  was  himself  a  convict, 
was  busily  arranging  the  camera. 

"  Sit  down  yonder,"  said  he  brusquely,  "  and 
put  your  head  in  the  rest." 

"  To  be  handed  down  as  a  thief,  in  a  thief's 
dress  !     I  decline  !  " 

"Now,  my  man,"  said  the  warder,  "  do  listen  to 
reason,  or  you'll  get  into  trouble." 

"  You  may  spare  your  speech.  I  won't  be  taken 
in  this  infamous  garb  !  " 

"  Then  we  shall  have  to  tie  you  down." 

♦'  You'd  better  not." 

Again  the  warder  sounded  his  whistle,  again 
came  two  of  his  myrmidons,  and  another  conflict 
occurred,  during  which  the  camera  was  smashed  to 
pieces,  and  Jack  was  overpowered  and  ironed,  and 
taken  before  the  Governor. 

"  Six  days  dry  bread  and  cold  water,  and  a  hun- 
dred marks.  Lock  him  up  !  "  was  all  the  autocrat 
vouchsafed  to  utter. 

That  night  Jack  was  famished  with  hunger. 

Directly  after  the  lights  were  out,  he  heard  a 
scratching  at  the  wall.  As  soon  as  he  scratched 
in  reply,  there  came  the  thieves'  whisper,  to  which 
he  was  now  becoming  accustomed. 

"  Hi,  Yorkshire  !  " 

♦'Here!" 


ANOTHER  CHANGE.  201 

"  I'm  Ginger !  " 

"Where  are  you?  " 

"  Here  to  the  right !  Hist !  I  sweep  the 
chimbleys,  and  have  the  run  of  the  shop.  I've 
got  some  grub  for  you — some  toke  and  a  piece  of 
cold  beef.  I'm  a-going  to  sling  it  under  the  door ; 
put  your  broom  out !     Got  it  ?  " 

"  Yes !  " 

"  That's  right !  Old  Jenkins  won't  starve  you 
while  Ginger  can  nobble  a  bit !  " 

"  AVho's  Jenkins  ?  " 

**  Your  warder  !  " 

Thanks  ta  Ginger,  "  Old  Jenkins  "  did  not  quite 
starve  his  prisoner. 

At  the  end  of  his  six  days,  Jenkins  came  and 
marched  Jack  once  more  towards  the  photo- 
grapher's studio.  This  time  he  positively  refused 
to  enter  the  room. 

"All  right,  my  lad,"  said  Jenkins.  "Now  will 
you  walk  to  the  Governor's  office,  or  must  we 
carry  you?  " 

"  I'll  walk,"  replied  Jack. 

The  autocrat  was  more  irate  than  ever. 

"  Nine  days'  confinement — bread  and  water — two 
hundred  marks — put  him  into  second  probation — 
and  send  him  with  No.  16  to  the  West  Quarry  !  " 

**  Please,  sir "  said  Jack. 

"  Out  with  him  !  " 

"  One  moment !     I  expect  a  letter " 

"  Obdurate  refractories  forfeit  all  right  to  letters. 
See  Regulation  No.  19." 


202  RACHEL  DENE. 

"But  I " 

"  Take  him  away  !  " 

Jack  went  back  to  bis  cell  without  a  word. 
That  night  Ginger  came  to  the  rescue,  with  a 
hunch  of  bread,  and  a  slice  of  boiled  mutton. 

"What's  second  probation?"  inquired  Jack, 
through  a  chink  in  his  cell. 

"You'll  be  moved  to  the  punishment  cells — a 
couple  o'  screws  will  be  told  off  to  look  arter  you, 
so  that  nobody  can  come  a-nigh  you ;  but,  never 
you  mind,  Yorkshire;  you  can  allays  depend  on 
Ginger! " 

Jack  did  his  nine  days,  and,  thanks  to  the 
faithful  Ginger,  came  out  stronger  than  he  went 
in.  Nest  day,  came  two  warders  to  escort  him  to 
the  West  Quarries.  They  were  the  two  fellows 
with  whom  he  had  the  conflict  at  the  bath. 

"It's  our  turn,  mate,  now,"  said  one  of  these 
gentlemen ;  "  and  see  if  we  don't  cry  quits  !  " 

Jack  had  made  up  his  mind  to  control  his 
tongue.  His  escort  handed  him  over  to  the  officer 
in  charge  of  the  gang,  who  gave  him  a  pickaxe, 
and  set  him  at  some  utterly  useless  work,  after 
giving  certain  directions.  This  done,  he  was  set 
apart  at  a  distance  of  ten  or  twelve  paces  from  the 
rest  of  the  gang,  who  worked  in  couples,  tickling 
the  ground  with  their  pickaxes,  while,  desjpite  the 
regulations,  they  laughed  and  talked  to  each 
other. 

When  they  knocked  off  at  meal-times,  his  two 
friends  came  and  took  charge  of  him,  and  marched 


ANOTHER   CHANGE.  203 

him  back  to  his  cell  for  dinner.  No  reproaches  of 
these  fellows  could  move  him  to  utter  a  word. 

Back  again  to  work  after  dinner — back  to  his 
cell  for  the  evening,  still  guarded  in  the  same 
manner.  But  the  seclusion  to  which  he  was  con- 
demned was  rather  agreeable  than  otherwise,  for 
he  was  left  alone  in  chapel  even,  where  he  had 
now  a  pew  to  himself. 

This  daily  routine  was  broken  by  the  weekly 
bath — the  weekly  medical  examination — a  talk 
with  the  schoolmaster,  who  never  failed  to  bring 
him  some  interesting  book — a  theological  argu- 
ment with  the  chaplain,  and  Sunday  parade  before 
the  Governor,  and  a  nightly  banquet  smuggled 
into  his  cell  by  his  friend  Ginger.  Day  after  day 
he  asked  for  letters,  but  with  the  stereotyped 
answer,  "None! " 

Then  came  upon  him  once  more  the  ferocious 
desire  for  freedom.  Morning,  noon,  and  night,  he 
thought  of  nothing  else.  In  his  mad  eagerness  he 
never  paused  to  calculate  the  almost  absolute  im- 
possibility of  escape,  or  that  his  prison  garb  would 
inevitably  lead  to  his  immediate  recapture.  He 
remembered,  too,  that  the  warders  were  armed, 
and  that,  their  orders  being  imperative,  they  would 
not  hesitate  to  shoot  him  down  if  they  caught  him 
attempting  to  escape. 

After  all,  he  could  but  die  once,  and  anything 
was  better  than  this  cruel  life.  If  the  chance 
came,  he  would  take  it.  It  came  sooner  than  he 
had  anticipated. 


204  RACHEL  DENE, 

CHAPTEK  XXIII. 

CAPTAIN   FITZHEKBERT. 

Meanwhile,  ■while  Ileywood,  the  convict,  was  suf- 
fering a  hving  death,  Ealph,  the  Earl,  had  come 
back  from  death  to  life.  But  coincident  with  the 
recovery  of  his  health  was  the  deadening  of  his 
moral  sense.  Satisfied  that  his  secret  was  safe 
with  Fitzherbert,  he  no  longer  thought  of  personal 
martyrdom,  and  his  thoughts  again  set  to  the  old 
centre — Eachel  Dene. 

He  returned  to  London,  young,  handsome,  rich, 
courted  and  admired.  What  could  the  heart  of 
man  desire  more  ?  Unfortunately,  however,  there 
was  a  skeleton  in  his  lordship's  cupboard  which 
gave  him  no  rest  by  day,  no  sleep  by  night,  which 
set  his  fevered  blood  afire,  and  drove  him  forth  to 
seek  forgetfulness  in  what  men  call  pleasure.  Go 
where  he  might  by  day  or  night,  by  bed  and  board, 
he  was  dogged  by  two  ghostly  phantoms — th6  ghost 
of  a  dead  crime,  and  the  present  apparition  of  a 
living  trouble. 

There  were  times,  indeed,  when  Ealph  felt  in- 
duced to  end  his  misery.  He  would  atone  for  the 
past — would  speak  the  truth— would  accept  dis- 
grace, infamy,  punishment,  and  set  his  rival  free. 
These  movements  of  remorse,  however,  were  of 
brief  duration  ;  he  kept  a  smiling  face  to  the  world 
while  his  heart  was  tortured  by  ever  present  agonies 


CAPTAIN  FITZHERBERT.  205 

— agonies  which  AjMi  rendered  doubly  painful  to 
bear  from  the  kn^Tddge  that  his  guilty  secret  was 
known  to  another.        "^- ' 

But  although  Fitzhcrbert  now  knew  all,  his 
attachment  to  his  friend  was  great,  his  devotion 
sincere.  What  he  knew  he  knew,  but  he  kept  the 
knowledge  to  himself,  and  all  reference  to  the 
subject  was  tabooed  between  them. 

To  speak  the  truth,  the  Captain  was  just  then 
deeply  occupied  with  one  object,  destined  to  become 
the  main  object  of  his  life.  The  Oriental  charms 
of  Julia  O'Gallagher,  with  whom  he  was  brought 
into  almost  daily  contact  through  his  intimacy 
with  her  father,  had  been  too  much  for  his  peace 
of  mind ;  but,  with  a  reticence  not  too  character- 
istic of  his  class,  he  kept  his  feelings  to  himself, 
and  only  proved  them  by  a  hundred  acts  of  simple 
devotion.  He  was  neither  unselfish  nor  high- 
minded  ;  he  lived  to  a  great  extent  by  professional 
gambling  ;  he  was  familiar  with  every  form  of  dis- 
sipation ;  but  he  was  capable,  when  his  affections 
were  strongly  awakened,  of  great  tenacity  and 
faithfulness.  Every  day  strengthened  the  links  of 
the  chain  which  the  beautiful  girl  had  woven 
around  him.  Every  day  also  drew  him  into  closer 
connection  with  the  gay  old  heathen,  her  father. 

The  Major  was  floating  on  thin  ice  ;  when  once 
the  thaw  came,  down  they  must  go  into  the  deep 
waters  of  wrecked  reputations.  At  present  the 
fifty  or  sixty  per  cent,  people  were  accommodating 
enough,  but  the  end  was  near  at  hand. 


2c6  RACHEL  DENE. 

Meanwhile,  there  were  cosy  dinners  and  card 
parties  at  Montpellier  Square  and  elsewhere,  picnic 
parties  to  Lewes  and  Goodwood,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it. 

The  gallant  Major  had  called  upon  Mrs.  Hollis 
upon  his  arrival  in  town,  and  Julia  had  accom- 
panied him.  The  Colonel's  widow  had  been  struck 
with  the  girl's  beauty  and  accomplishments,  but 
had  instinctively  felt  that  she  was  a  dangerous 
person  to  be  near  the  Earl ;  indeed,  she  was  still 
convinced  that  there  was  but  one  possible  bride  for 
her  darling,  and  that  was  the  heiress  of  Deepdale. 

But  Julia  0' Gallagher  was  innocent  of  any 
designs  on  the  young  Earl's  heart.  She  was,  con- 
sidering her  education  and  her  surroundings,  sin- 
gularly pure  and  unworldly.  Had  she  possessed 
more  subtlety  and  less  sincerity,  more  head  and 
less  heart ;  had  she  been  a  little  less  honourable, 
and  a  little  more  unscrupulous  ;  in  fact,  had  she 
been  the  least  bit  wicked,  she  might  have  been  the 
queen  of  the  demi-mondaine  world. 

Consciously  or  unconsciously,  she  accepted  the 
single  devotion  of  one  man.  Fitzherbert  was  not 
a  very  brilliant  person,  or  a  very  handsome  man, 
but  he  had  plea  sant  ways,  was  loyal  and  devoted, 
modest  and  manly.  Of  course,  he  was  not  clever ; 
but  then,  as  he  remarked  to  Ealph,  *'  She  was 
clever  enough  for  both."  In  fact,  Julia  regarded 
him  more  as  a  great  mastiff  to  run  her  errands,  to 
guard  her  here  and  there  to  the  theatre  or  the 
pictures  while  papa  was  playing  poker  at  the  club. 


CAPTAIN  FITZ HERBERT.  207 

The  girl  was  lonely,  she  had  no  companions  of  her 
own  sex,  while  the  men  of  her  father's  set  were 
ostentatious  in  their  admiration  of  her  beauty. 
One  fellow  of  high  lineage  actually  dared  to  insult 
her.  Fitzherbert  saw  it  and  said  nothing,  but  he 
thought  the  more.  Next  night  he  picked  a  quarrel 
"with  my  lord  at  the  club,  ostensibly  about  cards, 
and  thrashed  the  offender  within  an  inch  of  his  life. 

The  Major  was  present.  If  there  was  one  thing 
more  than  another  the  O'Gallagher  delighted  in  it 
was  a  fight,  and  the  next  morning  at  breakfast  he 
entertained  Julia  with  a  full,  true,  and  particular 
account  of  the  combat. 

"  How  did  it  begin,  papa  ?  "  inquired  Julia,  un- 
suspiciously. 

"It  was  something  about  a  murder.  My  lord 
said  something  rude  to  Fitz,  and  then  somehow 
the  fight  began.  But  you'll  see  all  about  it  in  the 
evening  papers." 

Julia  listened  with  heaving  breast  and  flashing 
eyes,  but  said  nothing. 

The  Major  had  to  break  a  horse,  and  he  disap- 
peared soon  after  breakfast.  The  Captain  usually 
looked  in  either  before  or  after  luncheon,  but 
to-day  he  did  not  come  at  all.  Julia  missed  him 
as  she  had  never  missed  him  before.  The  day  was 
long  and  dreary ;  with  a  woman's  instinct,  Julia 
had  guessed  the  truth  from  the  first.  She  was  the 
cause  of  the  encounter,  and  poor  Fitzherbert  was 
her  champion.  She  began  to  love  him  from  that 
moment. 


2o8  RACHEL  DENE. 

At  last  came  the  evening  papers,  with  a  sensa- 
tional account  of  the  fracas  of  the  night  before. 

She  waited  up  till  her  father  came  home.  She 
looked  down  from  the  landing  on  to  the  hall  below. 
When  she  found  the  Major  was  alone  she  hurried 
away  with  a  sigh  of  disappointment,  and  crept  up 
to  bed.  But  not  to  sleep ;  there  was  little  sleep 
for  her  that  night. 

Another  day  passed  in  the  same  manner.  The 
Major  did  not  dine  at  home,  and  she  was  alone  all 
the  evening.  She  went  to  the  piano,  and  began 
to  play  some  of  Mendelssohn's  "  Songs  without 
Words."  By-and-by  she  took  down  a  volume  of 
Tennyson,  and  sought  "Mariana  in  the  Moated 
Grange."  AH  the  loneliness  of  her  life,  all  the 
misery  of  her  position,  came  upon  her  as  she  read, 
and  she  cried  like  a  child.  Fitzherbert's  cause  was 
now  as  good  as  won. 

The  Earl  and  the  Captain  were  due  at  dinner 
next  day.  About  one  o'clock  Ealph  called,  but  he 
was  alone. 

"I've  called,"  said  he,  "to  ask  you  to  excuse 
Ned  and  myself  to-night.  The  Denes  are  up  in 
London.  They  are  only  here  for  a  day  or  two,  and 
they  are  strangers  in  town.  They've  asked  me  to 
dine  with  them." 

"Does  Captain  Fitzherbert  accompany  you?" 
asked  Julia. 

"No,  not  exactly,"  answered  Ealph,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  We  have  not    seen  him  these  three  days," 


CAPTAIN  FITZHERBERT.  209 

continued  the  girl.  "  There  is  nothing  the  matter, 
I  hope?" 

"  Nothing  particular,"  laughed  Ealph.  "  Only 
he  is  not  quite  presentable." 

**  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  Well,  you  see  he  has  a  pair  of  black  eyes,  and 
he  doesn't  care  to  be  seen." 

"  Tell  him  to  come  here  ;  never  mind  his  eyes," 
said  Julia,  eagerly, 

"At  once?" 

"Immediately!  I  must  see  him  on  particular 
business." 

When  Ealph  gave  the  message,  Fitzherbert 
jumped  into  the  first  passing  hansom,  and  drove  to 
Montpellier  Square.  When  he  entered  the  drawing- 
room  Julia  was  at  the  piano  playing  the  "  Bridal 
March  "  from  Mendelssohn.  At  the  sound  of  his 
footstep  she  sprang  up  ;  and,  falling  on  his  neck, 
she  kissed  him.  Then  she  burst  out  crying,  and 
he  consoled  her. 

When  the  Major  came  in  to  dinner  she  took  the 
Captain  by  the  hand  and  led  him  to  her  father. 

"  Your  blessing,  papa,"  she  said ;  **  we  are  going 
to  be  married  !  " 

The  Major  started  as  if  shot. 

"Do  you  mean  it?"  he  cried.  "Sure  you're 
joking !     What  are  you  going  to  live  upon  ?  " 

"  On  love,  papa,"  answered  Julia,  smiling. 

"Well,  that's  poor  sustenance;  but  there!  I 
know  you'll  have  your  own  way — so  take  her,  Fitz. 


210  RACHEL  DENE. 

my  boy,  and  take  my  blessing  along  with  her. 
But  mind,  there's  to  be  no  hurry  about  the  mar- 
riage !     You'll  have  to  wait  a  bit." 

"As  long  as  you  like,"  returned  the  Captain; 
**  that  is,  any  time  in  reason." 

So  it  was  settled,  and  from  that  day  forth  Fitz- 
herbert,  in  spite  of  debts  and  duns,  was  the 
happiest  fellow  in  the  world.  His  whole  nature 
seemed  to  change.  lie  cared  no  more  for  billiards 
or  for  cards,  and  was  never  happy  away  from 
Montpellier  Square.  Again  and  again  he  said  to 
himself  that  he  would  turn  over  a  new  leaf  when 
Julia  became  his  wife.  He  dreamed  of  a  cottage 
in  a  wood,  of  rural  felicity,  of  a  bright  fireside,  of 
loving  little  children.  Many  were  the  delicious 
tete-a-tetes  he  had  with  Julia  in  those  happy  days 
of  their  first  engagement. 

"My  darling,"  he  would  say,  "you've  made  a 
new  man  of  me.  I  wish — I  wish  I  had  known  you 
earlier ;  it  might  have  saved  me  from  a  deal  of 
misery.  I  know  I'm  not  worthy  of  j^ou — no  one 
could  be  worthy  of  you— but,  God  willing,  I'll  do 

my  best." 

He  meant  what  he  said,  and  had  Fortune  been 
kinder  to  him,  he  might  have  efi'ected  a  complete 
reformation.  Nature  had  intended  him  for  an 
honest  man ;  Fortune,  which  so  often  mars  the 
handiwork  of  Nature,  had  done  her  best  to  blacken 
his  character,  but  could  not  altogether  change  his 
disposition.  He  had  shown  that  he  could  be 
faithful,   even  culpably  devoted,  to  an  unworthy 


RACHEL   ON   THE    WATCH.  21 1 

friend.  Time  was  to  show  to  what  heights  of  self- 
Bacrifice  even  this  poor  fellow  could  attain,  when 
stimulated  and  strengthened  by  the  one  ennobling 
passion  of  his  otherwise  wasted  life. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

RACHEL   ON   THE   WATCH. 

The  lines  of  our  life  drama,  which  are  destined  to 
unite  in  the  sequel,  have  been  wandering  far  away 
from  Eachel  Dene,  who  has  been  standing,  as  it 
were,  apart,  a  spectator  of  certain  acts  in  which 
she  scarcely  took  a  part.  She  had  not  been  idle, 
however,  but  had  been  working  with  all  her  might 
for  the  deliverance  of  the  man  she  loved.  When 
she  found  that  all  her  efforts  were  in  vain,  that 
beyond  securing  his  reprieve  from  the  capital 
punishment  she  could  do  nothing,  she  felt  as  if  her 
heart  was  broken.  A  long  and  serious  illness  fol- 
lowed; and  when  she  emerged  again  from  her 
chamber  she  looked  several  years  older,  and  full  of 
weariness  of  the  world.  To  deepen  her  trouble, 
she  found  that  the  stern  heart  of  Jacob  Dene  was 
firmly  set  against  her  lover.  The  proof  of  his 
guilt  had,  indeed,  been  overwhelming,  and  the  old 
Quaker,  as  we  know,  had  little  or  no  mercy  on 
wrong-doers. 

**  Thou  must  forget  him,"  he  said.     *'  He  has 


212  RACHEL  DENE, 

sinned  against  God  and  man,  and  must  take  his 
punishment.  From  this  day  forth,  think  no  more 
of  him  or  his." 

"  But  he  is  innocent,"  she  pleaded.  "  I  hioxo 
he  is  innocent.  I  have  known  it  from  the  first. 
Let  me  go  to  him  ?  Let  me  write  to  him  ?  Let 
me  show  him  that  one  soul,  at  least,  believes  in 
him,  and  prays  for  his  deliverance  ?  " 

This,  however,  was  forbidden,  and  all  the  poor 
girl  could  do  was  to  share  her  grief  with  the  old 
couple  at  the  cottage.  From  there  she  heard  of 
Jack  from  time  to  time,  though  there  came  loving 
messages,  to  which,  in  spite  of  her  grandfather's 
warning,  she  returned  tender  answers.  But  as 
time  went  on,  and  no  hope  came,  Eachel  drooped 
more  and  more  under  the  weight  of  her  heavy 
sorrow. 

Since  the  night  of  the  murder,  Ealph  Hollis 
had  not  returned  to  Deepdale ;  but  he  had  heard 
at  intervals  from  the  Denes,  and  knew  all  that 
was  going  on,  so  that  when  Eachel  appeared  in 
London  he  was  not  astonished  to  find  her  so 
greatly  changed.  The  sight  of  her  face,  which 
seemed  the  more  beautiful  for  its  sorrow,  revived 
in  the  young  man's  heart  all  the  fire  of  his  old 
passion.  He  was  wise  enough,  however,  to  hide 
the  true  nature  of  his  feelings,  and  to  offer  her 
only  the  most  respectful  sympathy.  She  found, 
to  her  surprise,  that  he  was  quite  prepared  to 
become  her  confidant,  to  talk  to  her  for  hours 
together  on  the  theme  nearest  to  her  heart,  and 


RACHEL    ON  THE    WATCH.  213 

in  her  simplicity  she  trusted  him,  and  was  very 
grateful. 

Coming  straight  from  Montpelher  Square  after 
the  interview  described  in  our  last  chapter,  he 
drove  to  the  hotel  in  South  Kensington,  where  the 
Denes  were  staying,  and  found  Eachel  alone  in 
the  drawing-room.  His  heart  leapt  joyfully  as 
she  came  to  him  with  outstretched  hands. 

"I'm  so  glad  thou  hast  come  early,"  she  cried. 
"Grandpapa  is  away  in  the  City,  and  I  am  very 
lonely." 

The  young  man  took  her  hands  and  pressed 
them  tenderly.  They  sat  down  side  by  side,  and 
there  was  a  long  silence.  Glancing  at  Eachel's 
face,  he  saw  that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"You  are  fretting  yourself  to  death,"  he  said 
gently.  "  Try  to  forget  what  has  passed.  Try  to 
be  comforted." 

"Nay,  I  do  my  best,"  she  answered;  "but  I 
feel  now  as  if  I  could  never  be  happy  again — and 
indeed  I  cannot  till  the  truth  is  known,  and  lie  is 
cleared.  Oh,  Ealph !  it  is  so  good  of  you  to  be 
gentle  with  me  in  my  afBiction.  I  shall  never 
forget  that  you  have  proved  so  true  a  friend." 

"You  know  my  heart,  Eachel,"  he  said,  with  a 
sigh.  "It  is  the  same  as  ever;  but  a  man  must 
accept  the  fortune  of  war,  and  I  see  now  that  I 
had  never  any  chance.  You  always  preferred  him 
to  mo,  I  Well,  I  don't  blame  you  for  that,  though 
it's  hard,  very  hard  !  All  I  ask  you  is — for  my 
sake,  for  all  our  sakes — to  keep  up  a  good  heart." 


214  RACHEL  DENE, 

She  rose  from  his  side,  and  paced  up  aud  down 
the  room. 

"Can  nothing  be  done?"  she  cried.  "Oh, 
Ealph !  I  am  sure  thou  wilt  help  him  if  thou 
canst !  " 

"Certainly,"  was  the  reply.  "But,  there  !  it  is 
quite  hopeless.  He'll  have  to  '  dree  his  weird,'  as 
they  say  in  Scotland;  and  after  all,  you  know, 
prison  life  isn't  so  dreadful — the  suffering  is  more 
in  the  imagination  than  in  the  reality.  Then, 
again,  what  they  call  a  *  lifer  '  doesn't  mean  exactly 
imprisonment  for  life.  If  he  keeps  a  good  record, 
a  man  often  gets  out  at  the  end  of  fifteen  years." 

"  Fifteen  years .'    But  when  he  is  innocent " 

"I  believe  he  is,"  said  the  young  Earl, 
emphatically. 

"God  bless  thee  for  saying  so!"  cried  Eachel, 
looking  at  him  with  grateful  eyes.  "  All  are 
against  him  save  thyself  and  those  who  know  him 
and  love  him  best." 

Never  in  all  his  days  had  Ealph  HoUis  felt  so 
miserably  mean,  so  full  of  remorse.  At  that 
moment,  indeed,  he  would  have  liked  to  perform 
an  act  of  heroism,  and  make  a  clean  breast  of 
everything.  But,  no !  life  was  too  sweet,  and  the 
world  too  full  of  charm.  He  thought,  too,  of  his 
mother — the  one  being  in  the  world  for  whom  he 
had  any  unselfish  affection — and  said  to  himself, 
with  characteristic  self-deception,  "For  myself  I 
should  not  care  so  much,  but  for  her  sake  I  must 
lieep  silence  to  the  end." 


RACHEL    ON   THE    WATCH.  215 

They  dined  together  that  day  —  Jacob  and 
Susannah  Dene,  Eachel  and  the  young  Earl.  It 
was  a  dismal  enough  affair ;  but,  thanks  to 
Eachel's  society  and  sweet  looks,  Ealph  enjoyed 
himself  immensely.  Quitting  the  house  at  an 
early  hour,  he  went  off  to  the  club,  where  he  met 
some  choice  spirits,  and  played  at  cards  for  heavy 
stakes.  Flushed  and  feverish,  he  went  at  last  to 
his  room  to  spend  a  sleepless  night. 

''I'm  a  miserable  cad,"  he  said  to  himself; 
"  but,  after  all,  is  it  my  fault  ?  Had  my  uncle 
died  a  few  hours  earlier  I  should  have  been 
spared  this  life-long  misery.  God  knows  I  never 
intended  to  be  a  murderer — it  was  all  an  accident, 
as  I  told  Fitzherbert ;  and  though  an  innocent 
man  is  suffering  on  my  account,  I  can't  face  a 
prison,  and  give  myself  uxd." 

Then,  with  the  innate  selfishness  of  his  nature, 
he  thought  rapturously  of  Eachel — her  beauty, 
her  tenderness,  her  confidence  in  him.  There 
was  hope  yet,  if  he  played  his  cards  carefully,  that 
she  might  forget  the  other,  and  begin  to  care  for 
him. 

"Fve  loved  her  all  my  life!"  he  cried.  "If 
that  fellow  had  not  come  in  the  way,  all  would 

have  been  different.     And  noio Why  should 

I  waste  time  in  self-reproaches  ?  Why  should  I 
mar  my  good  fortune  by  making  myself  miserable  ? 
It's  the  fortune  of  war !  Life's  a  lottery ;  prizes 
to  some,  blanks  to  others ;  and  the  prise  I  want 
is  Eachel  Dene." 


2i6  RACHEL  DENE. 

Selfish  and  vacillating  himself,  he  entirely  mis- 
calculated the  strength  of  the  young  girl's  nature. 
Once  awake  to  the  fact  that  she  loved  Jack 
Heywood,  Eachel  never  faltered  for  a  moment  in 
her  first  faith ;  and  though  with  her  own  eyes  she 
had  seen  him  brutalized  with  drink,  and  though 
she  knew  the  world  thought  him  guilty  of  a 
hideous  crime,  she  held  tenaciously  to  the  belief 
in  his  innocence.  The  old  Quaker  stubbornness 
asserted  itself  in  this  gentle  being.  She  thought 
of  the  poor  prisoner  all  day,  and  her  prayers  were 
wafted  to  him  every  night.  Fifteen  years !  She 
would  wait  fifty  rather  than  turn  her  simple 
thoughts  to  any  other  living  man. 

A  few  days  later  the  young  Earl  had  a  long  talk 
with  Jacob  Dene.  They  met  at  Ralph's  rooms  by 
appointment,  unknown  to  Rachel,  but  the  con- 
versation was  chiefly  of  her.  The  old  Quaker 
deplored  what  he  called  her  infatuation  for  a  man 
who  had,  by  his  own  act,  placed  himself  beyond 
the  pale  of  human  sympathy. 

"Let  it  be  a  lesson  to  //tee,"  he  added.  **I 
thought  once  that  young  Heywood  was  the  steady 
horse,  and  Ralph  Hollis  the  unbroken  colt;  but 
see  to  what  a  pass  drink  and  the  love  of  money 
can  bring  a  man.  I  hope,  lad,  thy  new-found 
fortune  has  not  tm'ned  thy  head,  and  that  it  has 
brought  thee  better  manners  and  better  com- 
pany." 

"I  hope  so,"  returned  Ralph,  with  an  obedient 
smile.     "  You  see,  sir,  I  was  a  little  spoiled  by  my 


RACHEL   ON   THE    WATCH.  217 

bringing  up.     It  is  bad  for  a  young  fellow  to  be 
waiting  for  an  old  one's  shoes." 

"  Eight !  As  for  worldly  titles,  they  are  all 
vanity;  but  once  thou  art  a  peer,  set  a  good 
example  to  thy  kind." 

"I'll  try,  sir,"  answered  Ealph.  "But  Eachel 
— do  you  think  she  will  ever  get  over  this  great 
Borrow?" 

"  She  is  a  girl,  a  child,  and  must  get  over  it ; 
it  is  sin,  I  hold,  to  have  set  her  heart  upon  a 
criminal." 

"  And,  indeed,  he  was  ever  far  beneath  her !  " 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met,  and  each  knew 
what  was  passing  in  the  other's  mind.  Ealph 
saw  his  opportunity,  and  availed  himself  of  it — 
nervously,  awkwardly,  but  with  a  certain  show  of 
manly  candour. 

**  Oh,  sir,  I  need  not  play  the  hypocrite !  "  he 
cried.  "  I  have  loved  Eachel  all  my  life,  and  till 
this  man  came  between  us,  I  thought  that  she 
cared  a  little  for  me  in  return.  Not  for  the  world, 
however,  would  I  seem  to  her  selfish  and  unfeeling. 
All  I  wish  you  to  know  is  that  my  heart  is  still 
unchanged." 

Jacob  Dene  nodded  approvingly.  He  liked  the 
young  man's  modesty  and  gentleness  of  demeanour, 
and,  above  all,  he  knew  that  he  was  a  suitable  match. 

*'I  have  thy  word,"  he  said,  "that  thou  hast 
changed  thy  ways.  What  was  this  I  heard  of  a 
great  prize-fight  in  France — a  disgraceful  affair? 
They  tell  me  thou  wast  present  ?  " 


b 


3i8  RACHEL   DENE, 

"By  the  merest  accident,"  stammered  Ealph. 

"  More  shame  for  thee  !  Dost  thou  gamble  still 
on  the  turf  ?" 

"No,  sir;  I  have  given  that  up  long  ago.  Re- 
member, I  was  only  a  boy." 

"Thou  art  a  boy  still,"  said  Jacob.  "What's 
thy  present  life  ?" 

"  A  very  dull  one.  I  have  cut  most  of  my  old 
friends — I  confess  they  were  a  bad  set — and  found 
few  new  acquaintances.  I  live  very  quietly,  as 
you  see." 

"  Well,  good  fortune  has  not  spoiled  thee — that 
is  in  thy  favour,"  returned  the  old  Quaker.  "I 
will  not  deny  that  I  once  mistrusted  thee;  but 
now,  things  are  changed,  and  perchance — nay,  I 
promise  nothing — perchance,  I  say,  Eachel  and 
thee  may  come  together.  But  not  a  word  of  this 
to  Eachel  herself.  She  is  of  stubborn  disposition, 
and  if  she  thought  I  approved  of  thee  for  her 
husband,  poor  would  be  thy  chance  of  gaining  her 
affection." 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Ealph  became,  with 
her  grandfather's  secret  approval,  the  close  com- 
panion of  the  young  Quakeress.  He  had  played 
his  cards  very  cleverly,  and,  posing  as  a  sym- 
pathetic friend,  daily  gained  a  firmer  place  in  her 
affection;  indeed,  he  was  now  almost  the  only 
person  in  the  world  to  whom  she  could  open  her 
heart  unreservedly,  and  with  the  certainty  of 
finding  due  sympathy.  Under  these  favourable 
circumstances,  all  his  fears,  all  his  scruples,  were 


RACHEL   ON   THE    WATCH.  219 

forgotten.  He  thought  of  nothing  now  hut  the 
hope  of  winning  Eachel's  love,  and  to  secure  this 
he  humoured,  with  diaboHc  cunning,  that  other 
love  which  had  become  the  mainspring  of  her 
maiden  life. 

So  long  as  the  Denes  remained  in  town,  he  was 
very  careful  in  his  social  conduct.  His  only 
intimate  companion  was  Fitzherbert,  w^hom  he 
instructed  to  keep  as  much  as  possible  out  of  the 
old  Quaker's  way.  He  avoided  the  gambling  clubs, 
went  to  no  race-meetings,  and  was  zealous  in  his 
attendance  at  the  House  of  Lords,  even  going 
the  length  of  making  a  short  maiden  speech  on 
a  manufacturing  question,  which  speech  occupied 
just  two  lines  in  the  newspaper  next  day.  Those 
who  knew  him  better  looked  on  and  wondered. 

"Beauchamp  has  sown  his  wild  oats,"  they 
said,  laughing,  '*  and  is  going  in  for  respectability. 
Who  knows?  some  day  he  may  become  Prime 
Minister!" 

By  the  time  that  Eachel  left  for  Deepdale,  the 
young  Earl  had  succeeded  in  fully  establishing 
liimself  in  her  esteem.  The  season  was  just  over  ; 
everybody  else  of  any  importance  was  leaving 
London,  and  Ealph  began  to  think  of  going  some- 
where for  a  holiday. 

**  I'd  like  to  go  down  to  Deepdale,"  he  said  to 
his  mother ;  "  but  the  place  is  too  full  of  sad 
associations.  Fitzurse  tells  me  of  some  capital 
salmon-fishing  in  a  river  close  to  the  mouth  of  the 
St.  Lawrence.     I  think  I  shall  try  Canada." 


220  RACHEL  DENE* 

CHAPTEE  XXV. 

FITZHEEBERT   GETS   INTO   TROUBLE. 

One  winter's  day,  "when  confined  to  the  house  by  his 
asthma,  which  was  becoming  chronic,  0' Gallagher 
said  to  Fitzherbert,  **  *  Dum  vivimus,'  my  boy,  is 
my  motto.  Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof. 
As  for  the  future,  bad  luck  to  the  blackguard,  I 
haven't  the  honour  of  his  acquaintance,  so  let  him 
look  out  for  himself,  as  I  had  to  do  before  him. 
It's  the  present  is  the  botheration.  Julia  has 
taken  charge  of  the  cheque-book,  and  bowled  me 
out  and  at  the  bank.  Where  she  gets  this  nig- 
gardliness from  God  knows,  for  I  don't ;  not  from 
her  mother  or  me.  I  never  could  keep  my  ex- 
penses within  bounds,  because  of  the  insufficiency 
of  my  income.  What  can  a  man  do  when  he's 
born  a  gentleman  ?  Sure  he  must  spend  whether 
he  has  it  or  no.  The  girl  is  good  enough  to  see 
that  I  have  my  wine,  my  meat,  my  tailor,  my 
stable-keeper,  my  butcher,  and  my  baker ;  but 
where  is  the  use  of  those  without  my  horse  in  the 
stable,  my  box  at  the  play,  a  quiet  rubber,  or  a 
monkey  or  two  on  the  last  race?  By  Jove  !  "  he 
added;  " there  she  comes." 

As  Julia  made  her  appearance,  followed  by 
Balph  HoUis,  the  0' Gallagher  continued. 

"Ah,  Ealph,  my  boy,  here  you  are.  And  how's 
that   superb   creature,   your  mother  ?      And    the 


I'lTZHERBERT  GETS   INTO    TROUBLE.     321 

young  Quakeress,  too — how's  she  ?  By  my  honour, 
she's  an  angel ;  she's  better  than  an  angel,  for  she 
has  no  wings  to  By  away  with  !  Ah  !  when  I  see 
a  face  like  thaty  my  heart  always  goes  out  to  it, 
and  I'm  a  boy  again." 

"  Papa  will  still  be  talking.  Lord  Beau  champ," 
said  Julia.  "  But  you  must  excuse  him,  for  he  is 
still  the  youngest  member  of  the  family." 

"  Faith,"  laughed  the  Major,  "  you  may  say 
that,  darling.  Sure,  as  long  as  I'm  a  man,  I  hope 
to  be  a  boy." 

"I've  come  to  say  good-bye,"  said  the  Earl. 
"  I'm  going  to  take  a  run  over  to  Canada  and  do 
some  salmon-fishing." 

**  When  do  you  start  ?  "  asked  the  Major. 

**  To-morrow." 

"  To-morrow  is  it  ?  Then  good-bye  and  good 
luck  to  you  !  "  cried  the  Major, 

"  Thanks  !     Good-bye,  Miss  O'Gallagher  !  " 

**  Good-bye  and  hon  voyage,  Lord  Beauchamp. 
I  hope  you  will  have  a  pleasant  time,"  said  Julia  ; 
then  she  gave  her  hand  to  Ealph. 

"Thanks!"  returned  his  lordship.  "Fitz,  are 
you  coming  my  way  ?  " 

"In  one  moment,"  replied  Fitz.  Then  he  whis- 
pered to  the  Major,  "  I  say,  Major,  about  that  five- 
hundred-pound  bill  that's  due  on  Wednesday  ?  " 

The  Major  made  a  wry  face. 

"  Try  if  you  can't  get  Beauchamp  to  spring 
something  towards  it,  and  come  round  to-morrow," 
he  whispered. 


222  RACHEL   DENE, 

"  All  right.  Coming,  Ealpli !  "  And  off  went 
the  two  young  fellows  together. 

"Papa,"  said  Julia,  who  had  been  regarding 
this  whispered  conference  with  observant  and 
anxious  eyes,  "  I  wish  you  would  not  be  always 
leading  Captain  Fitzherbert  into  these  monetary 
difficulties." 

"  He  has  told  you  of  them  ?  "  cried  O'Gallagher, 
sharply. 

*'  He  has  told  me  nothing,  papa ;  but  I'm  neither 
blind  nor  deaf." 

"  No,  by  Jove,  nor  dumb  either  !  "  the  Major 
cried.  **  Ah  !  how  can  you,  while  rolling  in  wealth, 
leave  your  poor  old  father  to  the  mercy  of  those 
rascally  bill-discounters  ?  " 

"It  is  because  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  my  father 
to  their  mercy  that  I  seek  to  restrain  his  ex- 
travagance. Ah,  papa  !  you  have  already  squan- 
dered your  own  fortune  in  dissipation,  and  why 
should  you  seek  to  squander  mine  ?  " 

The  Major  looked  indignant. 

"Squander  yours!"  he  cried.  "Let  me  tell 
you,  Julia,  that  what  you  call  dissipation  a  gentle- 
man calls  doing  his  duty  in  that  state  of  life  in 
which  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  him.  A 
gentleman  is  a  circulating  medium,  or  nothing. 
For  Her  Majesty  herself  is  neither  more  nor  le«3 
than  a  circulating  medium,  and  an  O'Gallagher 
can't  go  wrong  in  following  so  illustrious  an 
example  ! " 

"  I  think,  papa,"  returned  Julia,  sadly,  **  were 


FITZHERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     223 

I  to  follow  my  natural  instincts  I  should  be  even 
more  thoughtless  than  you  are,  but  my  love  for  you 
has  taught  me  to  learn  prudence.  But  what  is  the 
present  difficulty,  papa  ?  " 

"  Well,  it's  just  that  bit  of  a  bill  for  five  hundred 
pounds  that  I  got  poor  Fitz  to  accept  for  me,  and 
if  I  don't  take  it  up,  lie  must." 

"  Oh,  papa,  how  could  you  ?  "  cried  the  girl. 

**  Well,  my  darling,  needs  must  when  the  Derby 
drives,  and  I  came  to  grief  over  the  favourite." 

"  When  is  the  bill  due  ?  "  asked  JuHa. 

**  The  day  after  to-morrow." 

Without  another  word  she  hurried  from  the 
room.  As  she  went,  the  old  Pagan  smiled,  and 
murmured,  complacently,  "  She'll  do  it,  the  darling, 
she'll  do  it.  I  never  met  a  w^oman  yet  who  could 
say  no  to  an  O'Gallagher." 

Then  he  lit  a  cheroot,  and  before  he  had  half 
finished  smoking  it  Julia  returned  with  a  cheque 
for  five  hundred  pounds. 

"  There,  papa,"  she  said  lightly  ;  ''now  promise 
to  be  very  good,  and  never  do  this  any  more." 

"  Never,  by  the  honour  of  an  O'Gallagher," 
returned  the  Major.  "But  I  think,  my  darling, 
we  ought  to  get  out  of  this  land  of  fogs,  and  go  to 
the  south,  the  sunny  south.  What  do  you  say  to 
the  Riviera  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa,  that  will  do.  Anywhere  but  Monto 
Carlo." 

"Certainly  not  Monte  Carlo,  my  Icvey;  that 
would  be  too  much  for  me,"  said  the  Major.     "  It 


224  RACHEL  DENE. 

would  recall  my  lost  youth,  and  that  angel,  your 
mother.  It  was  there  we  spent  our  honeymoon; 
and,  faith  !  that  was  not  all  we  spent  there." 

"  Make  your  own  arrangement  for  the  future, 
papa ;  but  for  to-night  let  me  make  mine.  We  will 
dine  tete-a-tete,  and  dine  early." 

"  By  all  means.  By  the  way,  Julia,  tell  James 
to  put  a  bottle  of  Chateau  Margaux  down  to  the 
fire." 

"  Very  well,  papa,  and — oh,  Fitz  has  a  box 
for  the  theatre,  and  if  you  will  promise  not  to 
play  more  than  one  rubber,  you  may  go  to  the 
club." 

It  was  impossible  to  be  long  angry  with  the 
Major,  and  Julia  beamed  upon  him  and  kissed 
him  that  evening  as  she  and  Fitzherbert  deposited 
him  at  the  club,  and  they  started  on  their  way  to 
the  Frivolity  Theatre.  It  was  a  bad  night's  work, 
however,  for  her  and  for  her  lover,  too,  when  she 
left  the  hardened  old  gambler  at  the  club  with 
the  five  hundred  pounds  in  his  pocket.  By  the 
time  he  had  taken  a  dozen  whiskies  he  went 
for  baccarat,  with  the  result  that  he  lost  Julia's 
five  hundred  pounds,  and  having  disposed  of  all 
the  loose  coins  he  had  about  him,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  borrow  half  a  crown  from  the  porter 
for  a  cab  home.  The  morning  brought  a  head- 
ache, repentance,  and  remorse.  Meanwhile  that 
bill  would  be  due  the  next  day. 

Previous  to  his  departure  for  America,  Pialph 
had   given   his  friend   a  hundred  pounds,  which 


FITZHERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     225 

Fitzherbert  bad  tbat  morning  banded  over  to  tbe 
Major. 

*'  One  bundred,  bowever,  is  not  five  hundred," 
said  the  Major.  "I'm  very  seedy  to-day,  Fitz, 
my  boy,"  be  continued.  "  Never  mix  your  drinks. 
It's  not  tbe  quantity,  but  tbe  mixture,  tbat  does  it. 
Now,  suppose  you  run  down  to  Lazarus,  and  give 
bim  a  pony  to  stave  bim  off  for  a  week  till  my 
dividends  are  due." 

Fitzberbert,  wbo  knew  as  much  about  dividends 
as  be  did  of  discounts,  called  at  Sackville  Street, 
and  put  off  Lazarus  for  a  week. 

In  tbe  mean  time,  Julia  made  preparations  for 
tbe  journey,  greatly  to  Fitzberbert's  discomfiture, 
since  it  would  be  quite  impossible  for  bim  to  ac- 
company ber.  Tbe  Major  got  out  as  frequently 
as  bis  cougb  and  tbe  east  wind  would  permit  bim, 
but,  as  tbe  week  came  to  an  end,  bis  cougb  grew 
worse,  and  be  was  confined  to  tbe  bouse.  Tben 
be  wrote  a  note  to  Fitzberbert,  begging  bim  to  see 
Lazarus  again,  and  to  get  time.  Tbe  Captain  saw 
tbe  Jew,  wbo  refused  point  blank.  Wben  Fitz- 
berbert called  to  consult  tbe  Major  on  tbe  subject, 
be  found  bim  in  bed. 

**  It's  about  tbat  infernal  bill,  I  suppose,"  said 
tbe  Major.     "  Well,  I  presume  it's  all  rigbt  ?  " 

"No;  it's  all  wrong,"  answered  tbe  poor  Captain, 
gloomily. 

"You  don't  say  tbat?" 

**  But  I  do,  tbougb.  Lazarus  is  furious — vows 
he'll  make  us  both  bankrupt.     Tben  gome  one  baa 

Q 


226  RACHEL   DENE. 

told  him  you're  going  abroad  next  week,  and  he 
swears  he'll  issue  a  judge's  warrant,  and  lay  you 
by  the  heels  and  throw  you  into  prison.  I'm  afraid 
he'll  come  here  and  make  a  fuss,  and  frighten 
Julia." 

"  He  mustn't  do  that,  Fitz  !  "  cried  the  Major, 
in  alarm.  "  My  daughter  knows  nothing  of  all 
this  ?  " 

"  Not  from  me,"  returned  Fitzherbert.  **  And 
now  what's  to  be  done  ?  For  myself  I  don't  care, 
but  I'm  thinking  of  you  and  of  /ler." 

"  I  know  you  are,  my  boy.  Well,  then,  just 
run  back  and  tell  him  to  hold  hard  for  twenty-four 
hours,  when  I  pledge  you  my  honour  I'll  find  either 
money  or  paper.  Look  me  up  at  twelve  to-morrow; 
and  remember,  Fitz,  my  boy,  not  a  word  of  this  to 
JuHa ! " 

"  All  right !  " 

And  off  went  the  Captain  once  more  to  face  the 
obdurate  bill-discounter. 

When  Fitzherbert  returned  the  next  day,  the 
Major  was  still  confined  to  his  bed,  and  his  cough 
was  worse  than  ever. 

**Hand  over  my  writing-case,  my  boy,"  he 
gasped.  "  In  here's  a  bill  at  three  months  for 
seven  hundred  pounds.  It's  accepted  by  Lord 
Dunsinane.  You  needn't  look  surprised ;  his  lord- 
ship has  owed  it  me  for  months  past.  I  put  the 
screw  on  him  last  night,  and  instead  of  sending 
a  cheque  he  sent  this.  I  can't  get  out  with  this 
infernal  north-easter,  so  I  must  just  trouble  you 


FITZHERBERT  GETS   INTO    TROUBLE.     227 

to  see  Lazarus  once  more.  There's  to  be  five 
hundred  to  take  up  the  present  bill ;  a  hundred  for 
interest,  and  the  other  hundred  you  can  keep  for 
yourself!  " 

"  I  can  do  without  it,"  said  Fitzherbert. 

"No,  dear  boy.  Well,  if  you  put  it  that  way, 
it's  all  in  the  family,  so  suppose  we  split  it  between 
us  ;  you  keep  one  half  and  I'll  take  the  other  !  " 

When,  an  hour  later,  Fitzherbert  explained  his 
business  to  Lazarus,  the  astute  Israelite  hummed 
and  hawed. 

"  I  suppose  it'll  be  all  right  ? "  he  muttered, 
"The  old  Marquis  is  shaky,  and  when  he  dies, 
young  Dunsinaue  will  inherit.  However,  three 
names  are  better  than  two,  and  as  a  mere  matter 
of  form,  you'd  better  back  the  bill." 

Without  hesitation,  Fitzherbert  endorsed  the 
new  bill,  retained  the  old  one,  and  came  out  trium- 
phant with  a  cheque  for  a  hundred  pounds,  which  ho 
cashed  on  his  way  to  Montpellier  Square.  When 
the  old  Major  heard  the  crackle  of  five  new  crisp 
Bank  of  England  notes  for  ten  pounds  each,  the 
effect  was  magical. 

"Thank  God  that's  paid!"  said  he,  as  he 
jumped  out  of  bed.  "  Fitz,  I  feel  ever  so  much 
better.  Go  to  Julia ;  say  I'll  come  down  to  dinner. 
Stay  and  dine  with  us,  and  we'll  have  a  pleasant 
evening !  " 

That  was  the  last  pleasant  evening  poor  Fitz- 
herbert had  for  a  long  time,  for  two  days  later 
the  lady   of   his  lifelong  devotion  and  the   great 


228  '        RACHEL  DENE» 

O'Gallaglier  left  town  for  San  Eemo,  and  the  dis' 
consolate  Captain  was  left  alone  in  London. 

Quite  alone,  for  Ealph  had  already  sailed. 
Before  the  separation  the  two  friends  had  several 
long  talks  together,  and  touching  once  more  on  the 
subject  of  the  Deepdale  murder,  Fitzherbert  assured 
the  real  culprit  of  his  intention  to  hold  his  tongue. 
He  would  have  liked  to  borrow  a  few  hundreds 
more,  but  he  knew  that  Ealph  himself  had  been 
spending  a  great  deal  lately,  and  to  press  him  just 
then  looked  like  levying  blackmail. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  thought ;  "if  I  get  into  a 
very  bad  fix  I  can  write  to  him,  and  he'll  never 
leave  me  out  in  the  cold." 

So  the  two  parted,  and  the  Captain  remained 
in  the  great  city.  A  few  weeks  passed  before 
he  began  clearly  to  realize  his  situation.  On 
investigating  his  affairs  he  found  they  were  worse 
than  even  he  himself  had  suspected.  He  was  in 
debt  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  saw  no  way 
out  of  it.  He  could  not  dig,  and  to  beg  he  was 
ashamed.  He  was  not  ashamed,  though,  of  run- 
ning into  debt  with  tradesfolk. 

"  A  younger  son  is,  as  he  observed,  born  to  that 
line  of  business;  in  fact,  it  is  the  only  line  of 
business  he  is  born  to.  He  has  to  learn  billiards, 
that  is,  if  he  wishes  to  earn  a  living  by  that 
pleasant  pastime ;  while,  as  to  cards,  well,  card- 
playing  is  an  exact  science,  unless  you  can  carry 
the  ace  up  your  sleeve,  and  that  a  fellow  is  debarred 
from  in  reference  to  vulgar  prejudice.     If  I'd  only 


FITZHERDERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.      229 

the  goodwill  of  a  fashionable  crossing  now,  Hke 
the  fellow  in  the  story,  I  might  turn  an  honest 
penny !  " 

Meanwhile  the  Major  and  his  daughter  had 
reached  the  Kiviera,  which  was  not  a  pleasant 
place  that  winter.  Wherever  the  two  went  the 
winter  still  followed  and  preceded  them.  Hail, 
rain,  sleet,  snow,  ice  before  or  behind  them  in 
every  direction.  The  Major's  cough  got  worse  and 
worse,  and  he  began  to  think  he'd  better  have 
stayed  at  home.  As  he  sat  one  day  muffled  up  to 
the  chin  and  shivering  over  the  stove,  or  the 
miserable  handful  of  damp  wood  which  did  duty 
for  fire  at  the  Hotel  Splendide  at  Cannes,  he 
growled,  *'  Curse  the  weather !  Sure  it's  the  marrow 
in  my  bones  that's  congealed  into  ice ;  and,  as  for 
this  infernal  cough,  it's  my  heart  it's  bringing  up  !  " 

"  I'm  so  sorry,  papa,"  said  Julia ;  *'  but  you 
would  come,  you  know." 

''That's  right — that's  right;  reproach  your  old 
father  who's  sacrificed  his  life  for  you  !  Confound 
this  cough  !  Ring  the  bell,  and  call  for  the  stoker ; 
see  if  that  old  cat  can  make  this  conglomeration 
of  chips  into  a  fire,  and  let  me  have  a  hot  whiskey, 
blazing  hot." 

When  he  had  swallowed  the  beverage  as  hot  as 
he  could  put  it  down  without  scalding,  he  said, 
"Ah,  darling,  you're  the  best  of  daughters,  and 
I'm  an  ungrateful  old  vagabond  !  " 

"  No,  no,  papa ;  I  won't  hear  you  talk  like 
that,"  said  Julia. 


230  RACHEL  DENE. 

**But  I  must  and  I  will !  "  returned  the  Major. 
"I  ruined  your  mother,  I've  ruined  myself,  and  I 
was  near  ruining  you;  but  thank  God  you  had 
the  common  sense  to  save  yourself  from  me,  and 
now  I  can  die  easy,  knowing  that  you  are  provided 
for." 

"  Don't  talk  about  dying,  papa,"  cried  Julia. 

"And  why  shouldn't  I?"  returned  the  Major, 
sadly.  ''  Death  is  the  one  debt  that  must  be  paid ; 
we  can't  escape  it,  try  as  we  will.  You  may  renew 
a  bill,  or  stave  off  a  tradesman,  but  when  the  Dun 
of  Death  lays  his  hand  upon  our  heads  there  is  no 
escape.  It  reminds  me,  Julia  darling,  that  my 
little  bill  is  nearly  due,  and  that  at  any  hour  of 
the  day  or  night  I  may  expect  to  see  that  cold, 
relentless  face.  I  shouldn't  mind  the  thought  of 
death,  Julia,  but  that  I  can't  bear  to  know  that  I 
must  leave  you  alone.  Ah,  it's  a  bad  lot  we  are 
— the  O'Gallaghers ;  a  set  of  godless  heathens 
wandering  about  the  face  of  the  earth,  instead 
of  being  settled  down  as  good  Christians  among 
our  own  kith  and  kin,  and  doing  good  to 
the  poor  devils  born  on  our  land.  Help  me 
into  bed,  darling.  Perhaps  I  shall  be  better  to- 
morrow." 

On  the  morrow,  however,  he  was  worse,  and  the 
following  day  he  was  worse  still.  Poor  Julia  loved 
him — for  he  had  been  to  her  father  and  mother — 
in  fact,  everything  in  the  world.  In  his  way  he 
loved  ]icr ;  he  had  petted  and  spoiled  her,  and  he 
would  have  ruined  her  with  equal  facility.     Her 


FITZHERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     231 

origin  and  her  dubious  position  and  past  always 
kept  her  in  doubtful  society,  and  even  then  she 
was  alone.  Women  avoided  her,  and  men  regarded 
her  as  an  anomalous  compound  of  the  Eastern 
odalisque  and  the  European  money  spinner ;  she 
who,  despite  the  hot  blood  of  her  Indian  mother, 
was  chaste  as  snow. 

It  was  the  quiet,  unostentatious,  yet  respectful 
admiration  of  Fitzherbert  which  had  made  the 
heart  of  this  poor  girl  go  out  to  him.  She  had 
learned  to  love  him  just  as  she  loved  the  old 
gambler  and  roue  who  lay  dying  before  her. 

Yes,  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  one  thing. 
The  Major  was  near  the  end  of  his  journey,  but 
he  managed  to  struggle  to  San  Eemo. 

"  Send  for  Fitz,  darling,"  he  said  one  afternoon; 
"  I'd  like  to  see  you  man  and  wife.  He's  not  a 
brilliant  match  for  you,  but  he  loves  the  very 
ground  you  walk  on.  Send  for  him  at  once — send 
for  him,  for  the  love  of  God,  Julia ;  I  must  see 
him  before  I  die  !  " 

Suddenly  he  was  seized  with  a  wild  paroxysm  of 
coughing.  When  he  withdrew  the  handkerchief 
from  his  mouth  it  was  drenched  with  blood. 

"It's  all  over,  Julia,"  he  gasped,  "and  I've  no 
time  to  make  my  peace  with  Heaven.  Kiss  me, 
darling.  I'm  a  bad  lot,  but  I've  always  loved  you. 
Sure,  I've  had  a  fine  time  of  it,  and  if  I  could  but 
see  you  settled  I  should  die  happy  ;  but  what  must 
be  must  be.  Kiss  your  wicked  old  father,  and  say 
you  forgive  him." 


232  RACHEL  DENE. 

As  Julia  knelt  sobbing  by  the  bedside,  lie  con- 
tinued. 

"  And  there's  a  bill — a  bill  for  seven  hundred 
pounds ;  it's  due  to-day,  or  to-morrow,  or  next 
week.  Bad  luck  to  the  bills  !  I  always  get  into 
a  muddle  about  them.  But  mind,  my  life's  in- 
sured. Give  Fitz  seven  hundred  pounds  directly 
— directly,  mind,  for  the  bill — the  bill " 

"Yes,  papa,"  sobbed  Julia  ;   "  I  understand." 

"  And  settle  the  rest  on  the  eldest  boy,  if  you 
have  one ;  and  call  him  Gerald,  after  his  wicked 
old  grandfather.  It's  getting  dark,  Julia,  or  it  is 
the  end  that's  coming.  Hold  on  to  me,  dear; 
bold  on  to  me,"  he  whispered,  faintly ;  and  then 
he  fell  asleep,  holding  her  hand  in  his. 

She  sat  there  till  the  hand  grew  cold,  the  breath- 
ing short ;  then  she  knew  that  the  stupor  was  that 
of  death. 

The  next  morning  Captain  Fitzherbert  went 
down  to  his  club,  and  found  a  foreign  telegram  to 
this  effect : — 

"  My  poor  father  died  last  night.  Come  at 
once.     Julia.     Hotel  d'ltalie,  San  Eemo." 

Poor  Fitzherbert  was  overwhelmed  at  this  in- 
telligence. Making  the  best  of  his  way  to  the 
smoking-room,  he  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  en- 
deavoured to  collect  his  thoughts.  His  first  impulse 
was   to    start  for   San  Eemo   at   once :    a  little 


FITZHERBERT  GETS   INTO    TROUBLE.     233 

reflection  showed  him  this  would  be  impossible. 
Without  money,  how  was  he  to  get  a  suit  of 
mourning,  and  how  was  he  to  get  to  San  Kemo  ? 
Well,  he  still  had  his  watch  and  chain  and  a 
diamond  ring,  and  a  shirt  stud  worth  a  hundred 
guineas.     He  would  dispose  of  these. 

Just  as  he  had  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  two 
of  his  boon  companions,  Algernon  Fitzurse  and 
Major  Deuceace,  lounged  in. 

**  What's  up,  Fitz  ?  "  asked  Algy. 

"  The  Major— poor  old  Major  O'Gallagher— has 
just  died." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  " 

"Yes;  he  died  at  San  Remo  last  night." 

"  Poor  old  chap  !  "  muttered  Algy  ;  "ho  was 
a  good  cribbage-player." 

"  Well,  he's  pegged  his  last  hole,  anyhow,"  inter- 
posed the  Major.  "Hawkins,  brandy  and  soda. 
Have  a  cigar,  Algy?" 

At  this  moment  Lord  Dunsinanc  burst  into  the 
room,  followed  by  Lazarus,  the  bill-discounter. 
Both  were  pale  with  excitement. 

"  Oh,  there  you  are !  "  cried  Lazarus,  accosting 
Fitzherbert. 

"  Of  course,  I  am  here,"  returned  Fitzherbert, 
coldly.     "  But  may  I  ask  what  brings  yon  here  ?  " 

"  What  brings  me  here  ? — my  money  !  "  shrieked 
Lazarus.  "  I  want  my  money,  and,  what's  more, 
I'll  have  it — do  you  hear,  Mr.  Fitzherbert  ?— I'll 
have  it,  if  not  out  of  your  pocket,  out  of  your 
life  !  " 


234  RACHEL  DENE, 

Fitzberbert  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  for  a 

bill-discounting  blackguard "  he  began,  -u'hen 

the  Jew  interrupted  him. 

"  A  bill-discounter  is  better  than  a  thief!  " 

*'  Not  much,"  retorted  Fitzherbert ;  "  it's  a  dis- 
tinction without  a  difference.  Anyhow,  if  you  have 
any  claim  against  me,  send  it  in,  and  we  will 
discuss  it  at  the  proper  time  and  in  the  proper 
place." 

"This  is  the  proper  time  and  place,"  said  the 
Jew. 

"  No,  it  is  not.  This  club  is  for  gentlemen,  not 
for  people  of  your  stamp.  Davison,  show  this 
person  the  door  !  " 

"Davison,  do  nothing  of  the  kind!"  cried 
Lord  Dunsinane.  "Mr.  Lazarus  is  here  as  my 
guest." 

"Very  good,  my  lord,  very  good,"  cried  Fitz- 
herbert. "I  know  whom  to  make  responsible  for 
this  outrage." 

By  this  time  an  eager  and  excited  crowd  had 
gathered  around.  Dunsinane  drew  himself  up 
indignantly. 

"A  gentleman  does  not  fight  with  a  forger  and 
a  thief!  "  he  said. 

As  the  last  word  left  his  lips,  Fitzherbert  knocked 
him  down. 

"  Police,  police  !  "  shrieked  Lazarus. 

In  answer  to  the  cry,  two  detectives  in  plain 
clothes  made  their  appearance. 


FITZHERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     235 

'*  There's  your  man,"  continued  Lazarus,  point- 
ing to  Fitzherbert ;  "  take  him  away,  and  lock  him 
up." 

"  Hands  off !  "  cried  Fitzherbert,  fiercely.  ''  I'll 
knock  the  head  off  any  man  who  dares  to  touch 
me!" 

An  ominous  growl  arose  of  "  You  shan't  take 
him ! " 

"  Come,  gentlemen,  it's  a  serious  thing  to  in- 
terrupt an  officer  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty !  " 
said  one  of  the  men. 

"Duty  be  hanged!"  cried  Major  Deuceace. 
"  You've  no  right  to  come  here  on  your  dirty 
work.  This  club  is  as  sacred  as  the  House  of 
Commons." 

"Don't  know  anything  about  that,  sir,"  was 
the  reply;  "we  were  brought  here  by  Lord 
Dunsinane." 

"  Cowardly  hound  !  "  said  Algy ;  "  that's  because 
of  the  thrashing  Fitz  once  gave  him." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  retorted  Dunsinane,  now 
livid  with  rage  ;  "  it  is  because  he  has  forged  my 
name ! " 

"  And  he  has  robbed  me  of  seven  hundred 
pounds!  "  continued  Lazarus.  "He  brought  me 
a  bill  for  seven  hundred  pounds,  which  he  pre- 
tended was  O'Gallagher's.  Here  it  is  with  his  own 
endorsement,  and  it  bears  the  forged  signature  of 
Lord  Dunsinane ! " 

A  murmur  went  round  the  room,  for  the  thing 
looked  very  serious.    Even  Fitzurse  and  Deuceace, 


236  RACHEL  DENE. 

who  were  hand  in  glove  with  Fitzherbcrt,  looked 
anxiously  at  one  another. 

"A  forgery,  did  you  say  ?  "  cried  Fitzurse. 

"  Yes,  a  forgery !  "  screamed  the  Jew.  "  Here's 
his  lordship  to  say  so  !  " 

"  Say  so  ?  To  swear  it !  "  cried  Lord  Dunsinane. 
*'  I'll  do  so  in  any  court  in  Christendom !  " 

Fitzherbert  was  stunned ;  hut  when  his  senses 
cleared,  he  understood  everything.  The  Major, 
always  reckless  and  unscrupulous,  had  got  him 
into  this  dreadful  trouble,  hoping,  no  doubt,  before 
the  bill  came  mature,  to  take  it  up  or  square  it  in 
some  way.  Death  had  intervened,  and  Fitz- 
herbert had  to  pay  the  penalty.  Even  in  the 
moment  of  his  dire  extremity,  he  had  only  one 
thought — to  shield  the  woman  he  loved.  The 
O'Gallagher  had  paid  his  last  account,  and  he  was 
her  father. 

By  this  time  the  sleek  and  swarthy  and  re- 
spectable members  of  the  club  had  strolled  away, 
leaving  Fitzherbert  to  my  lord,  to  Lazarus,  and 
the  detectives. 

Fitzurse  and  Deuceace  were  both  notorious 
black  sheep ;  their  hands  were  against  every  man, 
and  every  man's  hand  was  against  them ;  but  the 
Captain  was  their  comrade,  and  they  elected  to 
stand  by  him. 

"  Algy,"  growled  Deuceace,  in  a  fierce  whisper, 
**  this  is  a  plant  between  the  Jew  and  Dunsinane. 
I  don't  beheve  Fitz  is  in  it;  let's  see  him 
through." 


FITZHERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     237 

"  If  we  can  only  do  it !  "  muttered  Fitzurse. 

"Well,  I  can  spring  half;  will  you  spring  the 
otberhalf?" 

"  Yes ;  if  I  have  to  pawn  my  last  shirt !  " 

"  Then  let  us  try  if  we  can  square  Lazarus  !  " 

"All  right!     Go  ahead  !  " 

"Here,  Lazarus,"  said  Algy;  "come  and  have 
a  drink." 

So  while  Fitzherbert  sat  perfectly  stupefied, 
under  guard  of  the  detectives,  and  Lord  Dunsi- 
nane  strode  to  and  fro  in  a  fever  of  fury,  Algy 
and  Fitzurse  took  Lazarus  away,  and  talked  to  him 
quietly.  They  then  agreed  to  raise  the  seven 
hundred  pounds  and  costs,  and  the  Jew  seemed 
disposed  to  meet  their  views.  After  the  matter 
had  been  argued  for  some  time,  he  said,  "  Well, 
gentlemen,  I  must  consult  my  principal ;  if  he  is 
willing,  I  am,  but  I  must  tell  you  it  is  quite  in  his 
lordship's  hands.  Half  a  minute,  and  I'll  tell  you 
what  he  says."  With  that  he  approached  Lord 
Dunsinane,  and  repeated  the  proposal. 

"Never!  never!"  growled  the  peer;  "would 
you  have  me  compound  a  felony  ?  No,  not 
for  the  Bank  of  England ! — a  thousand  times 
no !  " 

"It's  no  use,  gentlemen,"  said  Lazarus,  return- 
ing to  Algy  and  Fitzurse  ;  "  we  can't  compound  a 
felony;  it's  an  indictable  offence." 

"  Take  him  av/ay,  do  you  hear  ? — take  him 
away  !  "  growled  my  lord. 

Fitzurse  and  Algy  went  up  to  Fitzhcrbci*t. 


238  RACHEL   DENE, 

"We  are  coming  with  you,  old  man.  Don't 
believe  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Fitzurse. 

"  Not  a  word  !  "  chimed  in  Deuceace.  "  Davison, 
call  a  four-wheeler  !  " 

*'I'm  ready!"  said  the  Captain,  pulling  him- 
self together.  "  I'll  go  quietly— only  hands  off, 
that's  all !  " 

"Eight  you  are,  sir!"  returned  the  detective, 
while  one  opened  the  door,  and  both  followed  the 
Captain  down  the  stairs. 

"Lazarus,"  said  Algy,  "stay  a  moment  while 
you  hear  me  speak  to  this  fellow." 

With  that,  he  went  up  to  Dunsinane. 

"My  lord,"  he  said,  "you're  a  liar  and  a  cad! 
In  your  heart  of  hearts  you  know  that  Fitzherbert 
didn't  do  this;  you  know  it  was  old  O'Gallagher; 
and  you  are  putting  this  upon  my  friend  because  he 
once  gave  you  a  thrashing.  But  if  Fitz  comes  to 
grief  over  this  business,  I'll  thrash  you  within  an 
inch  of  your  life,  as  sure  as  my  name's  Algernon 
Fitzurse !  " 

"  And  when  Algy  has  done  with  3^ou,  you'll  have 
to  settle  with  me  !  *'  said  Deuceace  ;  and  the  two 
men  left  the  room  together. 

"I  think,  my  lord,"  said  Lazarus,  "you'd  better 
have  accepted  their  offer.  What  I  do,  I  do  in  the 
way  of  business,  but  you  do  it  for  pleasure.  Every 
man  to  his  taste,  but  I'd  rather  not  be  in  your 
shoes." 

"  Pshaw  I  The  law  will  protect  me  !  "  cried  the 
peer. 


FITZIIERBERT  GETS  INTO    TROUBLE.     239 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  forty  shillings  goes,  but  that's 
not  much  to  pay  for  a  luxury.  But  there  !  we  had 
better  be  off  to  Bow  Street." 

So  to  Bow  Street  they  went,  where  the  charge 
was  duly  entered. 

Upon  being  brought  before  the  magistrate  the 
next  day,  Fitzherbert  was  committed  to  take  his 
trial  on  a  charge  of  forgery  and  obtaining  money 
under  false  pretences.  He  was  removed  at  once  to 
the  Old  Bailey. 

Fitzurse  and  Deuceace  stood  manfully  by  him  to 
the  last,  procured  the  best  legal  advice,  and  paid 
for  it.  Yet,  despite  all  that  could  be  said  or  done 
on  his  behalf,  the  evidence  was  so  conclusive,  and 
he  himself  bore  such  a  shady  character,  that  he 
was  convicted. 

He  was  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  fifteen 
years'  penal  servitude. 

He  might  have  saved  himself  by  accusing  the 
O'Gallagher,  but  he  refused  point  blank  to  give  any 
explanation  of  how  the  dead  man's  name  came 
upon  the  bill. 

When  sentence  was  passed  his  head  swam ;  it 
seemed  as  if  the  roof  of  the  court  was  tumbling 
down  upon  his  head.  When  the  warders  carried 
him  out  of  the  dock  he  had  a  semi-consciousness 
of  two  pair  of  hands  grasping  him,  of  two  choking 
voices,  those  of  Deuceace  and  Fitzurse,  saying, 
*'  It's  a  cowardly  shame  !  God  bless  you,  old  man ! 
We  won't  forget  you  !  " 


240  RACHEL   DENE, 

CHAPTEE  XXVI. 

THE    TWO    PRISONERS. 

FiTZHERBERT  had  been  set  to  pick  oakum.  He 
might  as  well  have  been  set  to  construe  the  Pro- 
metheus Vinctus.  He  was  not  allowed  to  write 
till  he  had  accomplished  his  allotted  task.  He 
never  could  accomplish  it — he  never  did. 

His  poor  soft,  delicate  fingers  were  torn  to 
pieces.  The  experienced  gaol-birds  around  could 
do  in  three  hours  what  it  took  him  three  days  to 
attempt.  He  struck  work  in  despair.  He  was 
pulled  up  for  insubordination,  and  got  five  days 
on  the  crank  and  a  remission  of  forty  days. 

When  he  had  gone  through  this  ordeal,  he  de- 
manded an  interview  with  the  Governor,  from 
whom  he  requested  permission  to  write  again  to 
Earl  Beauchamp  and  Julia  O'Gallagher.  The 
great  man  inquired  if  they  were  relatives,  and  on 
being  informed  that  they  were  merely  friends,  he 
refused  permission  point  blank.  It  was  in  vain 
that  poor  Fitzherbert  pleaded ;  remonstrance  and 
reproach  were  alike  wasted.  Had  he  possessed 
money,  means  of  communication  with  the  outer 
world  would  have  been  easy  enough ;  but  he  had 
no  money,  nor  had  he  any  means  of  obtaining  it. 
The  knowledge  of  his  innocence  did  not  make  his 
punishment  the  lighter  to  bear  ;  on  the  contrary, 
it  fell  all  the  heavier. 


THE    TWO   PRISONERS.  241 

At  length,  in  the  efflux  of  time,  came  the  period 
when  the  other  prisoners  were  to  be  removed  to 
Portland.  While  they  were  being  transferred  from 
the  prison  van  to  the  railway  carriage  at  Waterloo, 
the  crowd  stared  at  them  as  if  they  were  packs  of 
wild  beasts.  Up  to  this  moment  Fitzherbert  had 
retained  some  hope  of  seeing  or  hearing  from 
Julia,  for  the  sake  of  whose  good  name  he  had 
suffered  himself  to  be  branded  as  a  felon. 

His  fellow-prisoners  for  the  most  part  beguiled 
the  journey  with  song  and  jest,  while  he  sat  apart 
in  silence,  till  at  length  the  prison  peninsula  rose 
before  him.  Immediately  on  his  arrival  he  had  to 
undergo  the  degrading  routine  of  prison  discipline. 
He  was  stripped  from  head  to  foot,  examined  as 
though  he  were  some  animal  whose  points  were 
to  be  approved  before  being  put  to  action.  Un- 
fortunately, he  commenced  by  kicking  against  this 
revolting  business.  A  quarrel  ensued,  which  ended 
in  his  being  dragged  before  the  Governor  of  Port- 
land on  the  very  first  day  of  his  arrival.  Poor 
fellow,  he  had  not  brought  a  clean  slate  from 
Brixton ;  so  the  interview  was  short,  and  the 
result,  "  Ten  days  on  the  crank  ;  bread  and  water ; 
four  marks.     Take  him  away  !  " 

This  was  not  a  good  beginning.  At  the  end  of 
his  punishment  Fitzherbert  thought  he  would  try 
another  trick,  and  became  obedient.  Surely  Julia 
and  Ealph  would  hear  of  his  unhappy  condition 
through  the  papers  ;  failing  the  papers,  they  might 
come  in   contact  with   Fitzurse  or  Deuceace,  in 


242  RACHEL   DENE. 

which  case  help  would   surely  arrive   sooner   or 
later  to  enable  him  to  effect  his  escape. 

When  he  had  done  his  ten  days,  he  was  sent  to 
work  in  the  West  Quarry  at  stone-dressing.  He 
was  enfeebled  by  his  bread  and  water  diet,  and  he 
couldn't  do  much  work. 

"Look  alive,  No.  79,"  said  the  warder,  peremp- 
torily. 

"  I  can't  do  much  to-day,  sir,"  replied  the 
convict;  "I've  been  on  bread  and  water  for  the 
past  ten  days.  Only  let  me  get  a  little  stronger, 
and  I'll  do  my  best,  I'll  promise  you." 

"  All  right,  my  lad,"  replied  the  warder,  good- 
naturedly  ;  then  he  added,  in  a  whisper,  "  Keep 
your  weather  eye  open,  and  in  a  day  or  two  you'll 
be  able  to  slip  into  it  like  one  o'clock.  You  can 
bring  yourself  to  anchor.     Sit  down  a  bit." 

Fitzherbert  availed  himself  of  this  permission, 
and  looked  round  to  take  stock  of  his  fellow  work- 
men. One  gang  was  engaged  in  removing  stone 
in  huge  masses ;  another,  in  levelling  a  mound  of 
earth ;  a  third,  in  building  it  up  again ;  a  fourth, 
in  dressing  the  famous  Portland  stone  in  lumps 
about  the  size  of  a  cocoa-nut ;  a  fifth,  in  loading 
carts  with  these  lumps ;  a  sixth,  like  beasts  of 
burthen,  were  hauling  cartloads  of  stone  up  the 
mountain  side. 

The  j)risoners  appeared  to  be  of  every  station, 
and  almost  of  every  nationality.  Cheek  by  jowl 
with  criminals,  such  as  burglars,  coiners,  pick- 
pockets, and  area-sneaks,  were   dynamitards  and 


THE    TWO  PRISONERS.  243 

Fenians,  mixed  up  -with  an  occasional  gentleman, 
a  fraudulent  banker,  a  forger,  a  barrister,  or  even 
a  parson. 

Misery  makes  strange  bedfellows.  Though  some 
of  these  men  seemed  conscious  of  their  degrada- 
tion, the  bulk  of  them  laughed  and  talked,  whistled 
and  sang,  despite  the  rule  that  such  amusements 
are  strictly  prohibited.  The  warders,  who  were  all 
fully  armed,  kept  a  sharp  look-out  on  their  flocks, 
prepared  to  shoot  any  one  of  them  down  upon  the 
shghtest  provocation;  but  beyond  an  occasional 
"  Hold  your  tongues  !  "  "  Silence  !  "  or  "  I'll  report 
you !  "  they  made  no  effort  to  control. 

One  tall,  slender-looking  fellow,  with  fair  hair, 
aquiline  nose,  and  clean-cut  features,  attracted 
Fitzherbert's  attention  by  the  way  in  which  he 
toj^ed  with  his  pickaxe ;  indeed,  he  handled  it  as 
gingerly  as  if  it  had  been  a  croquet-mallet.  For 
fully  five  minutes  he  leant  upon  it  in  a  position  of 
languid  elegance ;  then,  transferring  it  to  his  left 
hand,  with  his  right  he  twisted  the  ends  of  an 
imaginary  moustache.  This  occupied  another  four 
minutes  or  more  ;  then  he  laboriously  lifted  the 
pick,  examined  both  points,  dropped  it  to  earth, 
and  twisted  the  airy  moustache  again.  At  length 
he  appeared  to  be  roused  to  activity  by  the  sound 
of  approaching  footsteps,  inasmuch  as  he  spat 
upon  his  hands,  uplifted  the  pick,  and  worked  with 
a  will  as  the  warder  came  in  view.  The  moment, 
however,  that  he  passed  out  of  sight,  the  gentleman 
with  the  aquiline  nose  returned  to  his  ruminations^ 


244  RACHEL   DENE. 

and  his  companions  to  the  process  of  ticMing  the 
earth  with  their  pickaxes. 

"  Jem's  thinking,"  said  one  of  the  convicts, 
lifting  his  left  thumb  over  his  shoulder  towards 
the  man  with  the  aquiline  nose. 

**  No,  he  isn't,"  responded  another,  in  an 
educated  hut  cynical  voice.  "  He'd  scorn  the 
action ;  he  thinks  he's  thinking,  which  is  quite  a 
different  thing." 

"I'll  bet  two  to  one,"  continued  the  first  convict, 
"  he's  guessing  what's  on  for  lunch  at  the  Carlton 
this  minute." 

"Done  with  you !  "  laughingly  drawled  the  man 
with  the  aquiline  nose.  "  I  was  actually  thinking 
how  I  could  get  a  quid  of  tobacco,  so  hand  it  over !  " 

"I  will,  as  soon  as  I  get  it,"  laughed  the 
convict ;  "  but  there's  not  been  a  bit  of  stuff  in 
the  place  this  while  past.  Ginger  has  promised  to 
get  in  some  to-morrow." 

"I  wish  to-morrow'd  hurry  up,  then,  for  I'm 
dying  for  a  quid ;  it's  the  only  thing  worth  living 
for  in  this  infernal  place  !  " 

"  Try  the  Johnny  Eaw  there,"  said  convict 
number  one ;  "  perhaps  he's  got  a  bit  of  stuff 
about  him." 

Lounging  lazily  up   to   Fitzherbert,   the   man 

with  the  aquiline  nose  said,  "I  say,  you  fellow 

Fitz,  by  Jove  !  "  he  cried,  dropping  his  voice. 

"  Pelham  !  "  exclaimed  Fitzherbert. 

"  Hush !  Stow  that ;  I'm  only  Jim  Swindon 
here,"  whispered  the  other. 


THE    TWO   PRISONERS,  245 

"I  thought  you  were  dead,"  continued  Fitz- 
herbert. 

"  No  such  luck,  old  man,"  was  the  reply.  "  I 
wish  I  were." 

"Your  brother  told  me  you  were  drowned." 

"  The  man  that  is  born  to  be  hanged  '11  never 
be  dxowned  !  "  chimed  in  the  cynic. 

This  brilHant  sally  was  greeted  with  a  roar  of 
laughter,  which,  however,  subsided  into  silence  as 
the  warders  were  seen  returning.  Up  went  the 
pickaxes,  and  at  it  went  the  elegant  gentleman 
with  the  rest. 

Fitzherbert  by  this  time  had  recognized  in  the 
loquacious  convicts  two  or  three  other  old  chums. 
Besides  the  wretched  Pelham  (born  a  lord  and 
brother  of  a  duke),  there  was  the  son  of  an  Irish 
judge,  a  nobleman  who  was  said  to  have  been 
killed  in  the  American  war,  a  barrister,  and  the 
vicar  of  an  English  parish. 

"Well,"  thought  Fitzherbert,  "I  am  not  alone 
unfortunate.     Poor  Pelham!  " 

This  unexpected  advent  of  old  acquaintances  did 
something  to  make  the  hateful  place  less  endurable. 
The  weather  was  genial  and  bracing,  and  in  a  few 
days  he  began  to  get  better.  Fortunately  he  was 
dropped  into  Pelham's  gang,  nicknamed  "the 
Devil's  Own  "  by  the  other  convicts. 

Some  of  the  Devil's  Own  kept  up  by  occult 
means  communication  with  the  outer  world.  They 
could  command  money ;  money  meant  smuggling 
letters  in  and  out  and  obtaining  tobacco,  without 


246  RACHEL  DENE. 

■v\'bich  some  of  those  lost  wretches  would  have 
gone  mad.  In  this  respect  Fitzherbert  found 
himself  as  bad  as  any  of  them.  He  would  en- 
counter any  danger  for  a  few  puffs  of  a  good  cigar. 

Pelham  told  him  he  had  got  into  trouble  through 
mistaking  another  man's  signature  for  his  own, 
and  had  been  convicted  and  sentenced  by  the  name 
of  Swindon,  under  which  he  had  concealed  his 
shame.     His  poor  mother  bewailed  him  as  dead. 

"Better  so,"  said  he,  to  Fitzherbert,  "than  that 
she  should  dream  of  this  !  " 

One  of  the  most  trusty  agents  of  the  Devil's 
Own  for  communicating  with  the  outer  world  was 
"  Ginger."  This  worthy,  whom  our  readers  will 
remember,  appeared  privileged  to  come  and  go 
exactly  when  he  pleased,  and  many  a  coin  ho 
brought  in,  and  many  a  letter  he  took  out. 

While  Fitzherbert  was  endeavouring  to  accom- 
modate himself  to  circumstances  as  best  he  could, 
Jack  Heywood  had  become  rebellious,  desperate, 
and  even  ferocious.  He  had  refused  point  blank 
to  be  stripped  and  searched,  had  thrashed  one 
brutal  warder  within  an  inch  of  his  life,  and  dis- 
abled another,  for  which  offences  he  had  various 
periods  of  punishment  in  the  cells  set  apart  for 
the  purpose — bread  and  water,  plank  beds,  and 
sometimes  no  bed  at  all.  It  was  of  no  avail — they 
might  break  this  man,  but  they  could  never  bend 
him.  He  was  still  as  determined  to  effect  his 
escape  as  ever.  Every  one  of  these  offences 
against  discipline  entailed  special  punishment  for 


THE    TWO  PRISONERS.  247 

"  Sulky  Jack."  His  cruelest  punishment,  though, 
was  that  he  was  refused  permission  to  write  home 
or  to  receive  a  letter  from  home.  At  length  Ginger 
smuggled  in  writing  materials — paper,  envelopes, 
and  pen  and  ink — into  Jack's  cell — a  perilous 
proceeding  for  hoth,  if  found  out. 

"  Here  ye  are,  Yorkshire,"  said  Ginger ;  "  I'll 
get  it  posted  somehow,  if  I  get  fourteen  days'  bread 
and  water  for  it !  " 

But  Jack  was  a  marked  man,  and  no  warder 
would  risk  his  place  without  the  certainty  of  a 
heavy  reward.  Thus  in  vain  Ginger  represented 
that  there  was  money  behind  the  job. 

**  'Tain't  behind  it.  Ginger,"  was  the  reply, 
"  that  I  want  it ;  it's  before,  laddie.  If  Sulky  Jack 
can  spring  a  flimsy,  I'll  chance  it !  " 

When  Ginger  reported  progress  that  night,  Jack 
had  recourse  to  that  ten-pound  note  which  he  had 
managed  still  to  retain. 

"Ginger,"  said  he,  ''j^ou  might  get  this  fellow 
to  give  you  five  back  !  " 

That  gentleman  took  the  ten-pound  note  and 
stuck  to  it,  refusing  to  return  any  change.  He 
forwarded  that  letter,  though,  and  in  a  few  days' 
time  Jack  got  an  answer,  dated  from  the  town  of 
Portland  itself. 

The  letter  was  full  of  sweet  and  sacred  words, 
recitations  of  belief  of  his  innocence.  Jasper  and 
Joan  Heywood  were  outside  the  prison  walls; 
money  was  plentiful,  escape  was  possible ;  now  it 
was  a  mere  question  of  time. 


248  RACHEL  DENE, 

Despite  everything,  he  now  kept  a  good  heart. 
He  was  sure  of  money  to  bribe  his  gaolers — above 
all,  he  was  sure  of  the  two  faithful  hearts  who  from 
without  kept  watch  and  ward  by  day  and  night 
upon  his  prison  gates. 

One  day,  as  the  Devil's  Own  were  marching  to 
the  West  Quarry,  they  came  full  butt  upon  a  tall, 
stalwart  fellow  in  charge  of  two  warders.  Apart 
from  the  man's  appearance,  which  was  striking 
enough,  he  was  attii'ed  in  a  costume  which  fixed, 
and,  indeed,  riveted  attention,  for  he  was  clad  in 
a  parti-coloured  dress,  after  the  fashion  of  a 
mediaeval  jester,  one-half  of  it  being  a  bright 
canary  colour,  the  other  half  black.  The  man 
wore  irons,  too,  which  clanked  as  he  walked  briskly 
along. 

In  passing  each  other  he  and  Fitzherbert  en- 
countered each  other  face  to  face,  and  eye  to  eye. 
Each  gave  an  imperceptible  start. 

'*  Who's  that  ?  "  inquired  Fitzherbert,  of 
Pelham. 

"  Sulky  Jack,  the  Decpdale  murderer  !  "  replied 
Pelham,  in  a  whisper. 

"  My  God  !  "  exclaimed  Fitzherbert. 

Could  it  be  retributive  justice  which  had  brought 
him  there  face  to  face  v>ith  this  innocent,  long- 
suffering  man? 


(      249      ) 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

A   ROMANTIC    EPISODE. 

Eeturning  to  England  shortly  after  her  father's 
death,  Julia  O'Gallagher  scarcely  rested  by  day 
or  night  in  her  inquiries  for  Fitzherbert,  from 
whom,  to  her  astonishment,  she  had  received  no 
communication  whatever.  She  went  first,  how- 
ever, on  personal  business  to  the  family  solicitor, 
an  old-fashioned  and  highly  respectable  person, 
who  represented  an  eminent  conveyancing  firm, 
which  had  flourished  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  for 
nearly  a  century.  This  old  gentleman,  the  soul 
of  honour,  was  a  hundred  years  behind  the  age. 
He  saw  immediately  to  the  business  about  the 
insurance  on  the  Major's  life,  and  invested  the 
money  to  the  best  advantage,  but  he  did  not  display 
any  remarkable  alacrity  in  making  the  requisite 
inquiries  about  Fitzherbert.  Of  course,  Julia  could 
not  explain  the  motives  which  influenced  her  so 
strongly  in  the  matter,  nor  did  she  permit  herself  to 
display  the  anxiety  she  felt.  She  had  no  one  but 
her  maid  to  confide  in,  and  that  young  lady  was 
not  a  person  to  inspire  confidence.  It  was  Julia's 
misfortune,  therefore,  to  be  still  alone  in  the  world. 

The  discovery  of  the  truth  came  upon  her  like 
a  thunderclap. 

The  man  she  loved,  the  man  who  had  filled  her 
with    such    simj)le  devotion,   was    in    a.  convict 


2 so  RACHEL  DENE. 

prison ;  and  further  inquiry  elicited  the  truth, 
known  only  to  herself,  that  he  had  been  condemned 
on  account  of  a  crime  really  committed  by  her  own 
father.  Not  a  sign  had  he  made,  not  a  complaint 
had  he  uttered,  but  had  accepted  his  fate  like  a 
hero,  to  spare  her  pain. 

If  she  had  loved  him  before,  she  adored  him 
now ;  on  her  knees,  night  after  night,  she  wept 
and  prayed  for  her  lover. 

Then  she  took  a  firm  resolve. 

"  With  God's  help,"  she  said,  **  I  will  save  him 
and  justify  him." 

Dassiter,  the  lawyer,  had  been  unable  to  obtain 
any  information  about  Fitzherbert's  place  of  con- 
finement beyond  the  fact  that  he  had  been  removed 
to  some  distant  convict  prison;  but  fortunately 
at  or  about  this  time  Julia  encountered  a  gentle- 
man she  had  formerly  known — Algernon  Fitzurse, 
recently  translated  to  the  peerage  by  the  death  of 
his  elder  brother. 

He  was  delighted  to  see  her,  and  she  was  glad 
to  see  him. 

Fitzurse  had  sown  his  wild  oats,  and  had  become 
impressed  with  the  duties  of  his  new  position ;  but 
he  requested  permission  to  call  next  day,  and  when 
he  had  done  so  some  spontaneous  expression  of  hig 
regard  for  Fitzherbert  caused  the  girl  to  open  her 
heart  to  him.  He  sympathized  with  her  loyalty  to 
his  friend,  and  with  her  lonely  situation,  so  greatly, 
that  upon  leaving  her  he  went  direct  to  his  mother, 
the  Dowager  Countess,  a  charming  old  lady.    He 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  251 

was  the  Dowager's  only  son,  and  even  in  his  wildest 
days  he  had  been  her  darling,  so  had  little  difficulty 
in  persuading  her  to  accompany  him  in  his  next 
visit  to  Miss  O'Gallagher.  The  two  ladies  took  a 
fancy  to  each  other,  and  Julia  found  in  the  Countess 
a  valuable  ally  and  friend. 

Meantime  Fitzurse,  or  Lord  Delamere  as  we 
must  now  call  him,  took  the  matter  of  Fitzherbert 
in  hand,  and  engaged  a  famous  criminal  lawyer  to 
make  the  requisite  inquiries.  After  a  few  weeks 
the  lawyer  reported  that  there  was  every  reason  to 
believe  that  Fitzherbert  was  confined  at  Portland ; 
so  to  Portland  Delamere  and  Julia  went  the  next 
day. 

It  was  the  custom,  whether  in  romance  or  realitj^', 
to  depict  the  Governor  of  a  penal  establishment  as 
a  stereotyped  monster  in  human  shape ;  but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  many  of  these  persons  are  gentle- 
men of  the  most  humane  feelings,  whom  inexora,ble 
necessity  has  condemned  to  become  professional 
gaolers.  In  this  case,  however,  public  sentiment 
was  right.  The  Governor  of  Portland  was  a 
jaundiced,  ill-conditioned  individual,  who  was  pre- 
judiced in  his  likes  and  dislikes. 

For  all  that,  he  dearly  loved  a  lord,  and  more 
than  that  a  handsome  lady. 

So  having  been  duly  advised  over-night  of  Lord 
Delamere's  intended  visit,  he  laid  himself  out  to 
receive  his  lordship  with  all  honours  due  to  his 
lordship's  station.  Orders  were  given  for  every- 
thing to  be  brightened  up  and  made  clean  as  a 


252  RACHEL  DENE. 

new  pin.  The  ''  Devil's  Own  "  occupied  the  model 
cells,  which  were  to  be  thrown  open  for  inspection. 
Every  cell  was  holystoned,  every  tin  can  or  copper 
utensil  was  brightened  up  like  silver,  or  like 
burnished  gold,  and  the  men,  instead  of  being  sent 
out  to  the  quarry,  were  ordered  to  stay  in  their 
cells,  an  order  received  with  universal  dissatis- 
faction, for  not  one  amongst  them  cared  about 
being  pruned  up  for  inspection;  possibly  more 
than  one  had  good  reason  to  desire  to  escape 
recognition  from  the  outer  world. 

Upon  their  arrival.  Lord  Delamere  and  Julia 
were  received  by  the  Governor,  who  escorted  them 
in  the  first  instance  to  the  infirmary,  where  the 
large  dreary  dormitory  and  spotless  linen  excited 
their  admiration,  while  the  poor  careworn  prisoners 
claimed  their  sympath}'.  Julia  looked  in  vain 
from  side  to  side  for  her  lover,  whom  she  feared  to 
find  dead  or  dying  with  shame  and  grief.  From 
the  infirmary  they  were  led  to  the  kitchen  and  the 
bakehouse,  where  piles  and  piles  of  newly-baked 
bread  emitted  a  fresh  and  wholesome  odour ; 
thence  they  proceeded  to  the  great  kitchen,  where 
they  found  spread  out  on  the  table  samples  of  the 
prisoners'  food  for  dinner.  Here  was  a  magnificent 
leg  of  mutton,  there  a  fine  joint  of  beef,  and  there 
a  steaming  hot  copper  full  of  potatoes  like  huge 
balls  of  flour. 

This  was  one  side  of  the  picture.  If  they  had 
only  seen  the  other  ! 

Delamere  and  his  companion  tasted  the  mutton 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  253 

and  the  bread,  and  found  them  both  deh- 
cious ;  but  the  girl's  heart  was  too  full  to  admit 
of  her  paying  the  requisite  attention  to  each 
detail. 

At  last  they  were  conducted  to  the  model  cells 
occupied  by  the  Devil's  Own ;  the  doors  were 
unlocked  by  the  warders  in  attendance,  and  at  the 
word  of  command  the  men  stepped  out,  faced  in  a 
line,  and  saluted  the  Governor. 

Julia  looked  into  one  or  two  of  the  cells ;  then 
the  Governor  led  the  way  down  the  hall,  inspecting 
the  prisoners  as  they  passed. 

As  they  got  about  half-way  down,  a  choking 
voice  gasped  "Julia!"  The  word  had  scarcely 
left  his  lips  when,  with  a  wild  cry  of  joy,  she 
leaped  into  the  arms  of  her  lost  lover. 

A  scene  of  the  wildest  amazement  followed. 
"  God  bless  my  soul !  This  is  monstrous  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  Governor.  "  Monstrous  !  Scandalous! 
A  breach  of  discipline !  Take  the  gang  to  the 
quarry,  and  remove  No.  79  to  his  cell !  " 

"  Silence,  there ! "  roared  a  gigantic  warder. 
"Fall  in!  Eight  about  face!  Quick  march!" 
As  the  men  rapidly  defiled  down  the  central 
avenue,  two  warders  advanced  to  Fitzherbert  on 
the  one  side  and  to  Julia  on  the  other,  and  despite 
their  prayers  and  entreaties  that  they  might  speak 
to  each  other,  if  only  for  a  few  minutes,  pulled 
them  asunder. 

"  Oh,  my  darling  ! — my  darling  !  Thank  God, 
I've  seen  you  I  "  cried  Fitzherbert  as  they  dragged 


254  RACHEL  DENE. 

bim  to  Lis  cell.  ''Don't  fear  for  mo;  I'm  all 
right  now  I " 

Fortunately  Julia  had  fainted,  and  was  utterly 
unconscious.  It  was  in  vain  that  Lord  Delamere 
appealed  to  the  Governor,  who  was  furious  with 
rage.  Had  his  lordship  approached  him  in  a 
different  manner — had  he  requested  an  interview 
for  Julia  with  the  prisoner,  the  chances  are  that 
the  Governor  might  have  been  induced  to  yield 
assent ;  but  he  was  under  the  impression  that 
advantage  had  been  taken  of  him,  and  he  would 
listen  to  nothing.  Indeed,  he  cut  short  the  inter- 
view by  exclaiming,  as  he  left  the  hall,  "  Show 
this  lady  and  gentleman  out !  " 

Two  warders  bore  Julia  to  the  carriage,  which  v.'as 
waiting  at  the  prison  gates ;  but  Delamere,  not  to 
be  daunted,  went  on  to  the  door  of  his  friend's  cell. 

*'Fitz!"  said  he;  "Julia's  all  right!  She's 
only  fainted  !     I'll  take  care  of  her." 

"  God  bless  her  !  "  gasped  Fitzherbert. 

''And,  Fitz,  I've  kept  my  word,  and  given  that 
rascal  Dunsinane  a  thrashing !  " 

Here  a  hand  was  laid  upon  his  arm.  "  I  must 
trouble  your  lordship  to  follow  the  lady,"  said  the 
principal  warder. 

"  One  moment,  my  good  fellow ;  I  want  just  a 
word  with  my  friend." 

The  warder  glanced  round,  and  saw  that  the 
Governor  had  disappeared. 

"Prisoners  are  forbidden  to  talk;  it's  against 
the  regulations." 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  255 

"  Hang  the  regulations  !     Fitz  !  " 

"  Here  !  "  answered  Fitzherbcrt  from  his  cell. 

"  Keep  up  your  heart,  old  man ;  we  know  where 
you  are,  and  will  soon  have  you  out." 

"  God  bless  you,  Algy  !  " 

As  Delamere  walked  down  the  corridor,  he 
looked  round  to  see  if  he  was  unobserved,  and 
took  the  opportunity  to  slip  a  ten-pound  note  into 
the  warder's  hand. 

**I  shall  be  staying  at  the  Bed  Lion  for 
the  next  week,"  he  whispered;  "try  to  sec  me 
there." 

"  It's  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth  !  " 

"  I'll  make  it  worth  much  more.  Mind,  I  shall 
expect  to  see  you." 

"All  right,  my  lord." 

By  the  time  Delamere  returned  to  the  carriage, 
JuHa  had  recovered.  She  took  his  hand,  and 
grasped  it  cordially. 

"Now  that  I  know  where  he  is,  my  mind  is 
^asy.     I  will  not  rest  night  or  day  till  he  is  free." 

The  news  of  the  scene  of  the  morning  spread 
like  wildfire  through  the  prison,  and  added  to  the 
growing  dissatisfaction  amongst  the  prisoners.  Ifc 
is  true  it  was  a  trifle  compared  with  what  had 
gone  before,  but  it  was  a  romantic  and  sensational 
trifle,  and  it  was  in  a  thousand  mouths  that  night. 
The  Governor  was  universally  detested,  and  no 
wonder.  Even  to  his  own  officers  he  was  insolent 
and  overbearing.  Many  of  the  important  officials 
were    superior    men,    who,   although    they  were 


256  RACHEL  DENE. 

compelled  to  yield  obedience  to  his  orders,  did  so 
most  unwillingly. 

In  one  word,  the  prisoners  were  in  a  state  of 
semi-mutiny,  which  was  only  kept  down  by  the 
most  vigorous  means.  The  separate  cells  were 
crowded ;  indeed,  scores  of  men  were  reported  and 
brutally  punished  by  the  director  at  the  instigation 
of  the  Governor. 

This  same  director  was  a  gentleman  who  went 
in  for  flogging  as  a  panacea  for  insubordination. 
Men  were  frequently  strapped  up  to  the  triangles, 
and  some  were  maimed  for  life.  One  man,  it  is  a 
matter  of  history,  actually  died  from  the  infliction. 

How  Jack  Heywood  had  escaped  this  punish- 
ment is  to  this  day  a  mystery ;  but  now,  after  he 
was  assured  that  the  means  of  escape  were  at 
hand,  he  became  less  refractory ;  he  did  whatever 
work  was  allotted  him  with  assiduity,  and  without 
grumbling.  Consolation  had  come  to  his  bruised 
heart  in  various  ways.  First  he  had  caught  in 
the  quarry  a  beautiful  little  white  mouse,  and  had 
trained  it  to  come  and  go  at  his  call,  and  to  sleep 
in  his  bosom.  Secondly,  he  had  learnt  that 
Eachel  had  sent  him  loving  messages,  and  that 
she  still  remained  Eachel  Dene !  Thirdly,  Joan 
Heywood  had  written,  begging  him  that  every 
morning  at  seven  (for  the  winter  had  now  set  in), 
and  every  night  at  the  same  time,  he  would  say 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  at  the  same  hour  day  and 
night  she  would  say  the  same  prayer,  with  a  little 
one  thrown  in  for  his  deliverance.     This  simple 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  257 

act  of  piety  soothed,  softened,  and  consoled  him, 
and  gave  him  courage  and  strength  to  look  forward 
to  the  hour  of  his  vindication. 

Christmas  was  now  approaching.  There  would 
be  some  merriment  going  on  even  amongst  the 
stern  officials ;  and  if  so,  that  was  the  golden 
opportunity  to  be  utilized. 

The  warder  who  carried  his  letters  to  and  fro 
entered  into  negotiations  with  the  Heywoods ;  the 
chief  warder  followed  suit  with  Lord  Delamere. 
These  two  worthies  put  their  heads  together, 
squared  the  porter  at  the  portcullis,  and  agreed, 
in  consideration  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  to 
release  the  two  prisoners.  Finally,  it  was  arranged 
that  on  Christmas  Day  a  boat  should  be  ready  on 
the  shore,  which  would  take  them  to  a  sailing 
vessel  which  lay  in  the  offing.  Once  aboard,  they 
would  be  safe.  This  last  was  Delamere's  plan. 
The  vessel  was  chartered  by  him,  and  he  was 
quite  willing  to  act  in  concert  with  the  other 
prisoner. 

As  Christmas  came  nearer,  the  excitement  and 
anxiety  of  the  prisoners  increased.  The  faithful 
Ginger  was  the  go-between,  who  kept  them  both 
posted  up  as  to  the  progress  of  affairs. 

Christmas  Day  dawned  ominously,  for  the  sky 
was  overcast,  and  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  turn  to 
snow.  Providentially  this  passed  away,  and  the 
sun  broke  forth  bright  and  glorious.  There  was 
no  work  that  day,  but  church  in  the  morning,  and 
some  attempt  at  a  choral  service.     With  husky 


258  RACHEL   DENE. 

throats  the  assembled  congregation  sang,  "For 
unto  us  a  Child  is  born,  for  unto  us  a  Son  is  given, 
and  the  punishment  shall  be  upon  his  shoulders  !  '•' 

After  church  there  was  an  hour's  exercise  in  the 
open  at  the  West  Quarry  before  dinner.  The  men 
took  open  order,  and  wandered  to  and  fro  at  their 
own  sweet  wills.  Clouds  of  thick  mist  floated 
everywhere,  now  veiling  and  again  disclosing  the 
dreary  prospect  of  land  and  sea.  A  wind, 
gradually  rising,  came  from  ^the  north-west.  The 
air  was  bitterly  cold,  and  the  prisoners  had  much 
ado  to  keep  themselves  warm.  They  laughed  and 
shouted,  whistled  and  sang,  and  romped  boisterously 
together,  while  the  armed  warders  looked  on  phleg- 
matically,  their  hearts  a  little  softened,  perhaps, 
because  it  was  Christmas  Day. 

While  this  merriment  was  going  on,  Fitzherbert 
leaped  to  the  summit  of  the  crags,  and  took  a  look 
round.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  on  garrison 
duty  at  Gibraltar.  How  the  scene  recalled  his 
old  station  !  He  thought,  for  the  moment,  he  was 
at  Gibraltar  again ;  and  he  saw  that  the  chances 
of  escape  would  have  been  ten  to  one  in  favour  of 
the  fortress  in  the  Mediterranean. 

The  prison  itself  stood  upon  the  summit  of  a 
lofty  hill.  The  rocky  peninsula,  wrongly  called  an 
island,  was  surrounded  in  part,  to  the  right  and 
the  left,  by  the  sea,  in  the  rear  by  the  military 
district  of  the  Verne,  beyond  which  lay  a  bare  and 
thickly  misted  district  of  swamp  and  marshes.  To 
the  right  and  left  the  prison  fortress  was  guarded 


A    /ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  259 

by  the  naval  harbour  forta.  Except  by  strategy  or 
treachery,  escape  was  impossible.  But  in  the 
oiling  towards  the  south  lay  a  sailing  vessel,  with 
bunting  flying  at  the  fore.  The  word  had  been 
passed,  and  Fitzherbert  knew  the  word  was  Lord 
Delamere's,  and  that  once  aboard,  he  would  be 
free. 

At  this  moment  the  signal  was  given  to  fall  in. 
With  empty  stomachs  and  aching  hearts— for  even 
the  most  lost  wretch  there  thought  of  other  Christ- 
mases,  of  home  and  friends,  of  father  and  mother, 
sisters  and  brothers,  sweetheart,  or  wife  and  child 
— they  marched  slowly  back  to  the  prison.  On 
their  return  they  stopped  in  the  square  for  inspec- 
tion before  being  dismissed  for  dinner. 

The  Governor  was  about  to  give  them  their 
conge,  when,  as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  he  caught 
sight  of  Ginger,  disguised  in  a  clean  face,  attempt- 
ing to  smuggle  a  letter  into  the  hands  of  Fitz- 
herbert ;  a  letter,  in  fact,  containing  the  formal 
plan  of  action  for  the  escape. 

"Halt,  there!  Fall  in.  No.  79  company!" 
roared  the  martinet. 

The  word  of  command  was  obeyed;  but  before 
the  men  could  form  in  file,  the  letter  had  dis- 
appeared as  if  by  magic.  In  point  of  fact,  Ginger 
had  rolled  it  up,  and  swallowed  it  like  a  pill. 

"  Hand  over  the  letter  !  "  shouted  the  Governor. 

"  I  have  no  letter,  sir  !  "  replied  Fitzherbert. 

'•  Then  you,  sir  !  "  he  roared  to  Ginger. 

"Me,  sir?"  said  Ginger,  innocently. 


M 


26o  RACHEL  DENE, 

"  Yes,  you,  sir !  " 

"  Never  had  no  letter  in  my  life — can't  read, 
sir  !  "  returned  Ginger,  smiling. 

"  Don't  humbug  me  !  Some  one  has  it  in  his 
possession,  for  I  saw  it — I  saw  it  with  my  own 
eyes !     Hand  it  over  !  " 

A  dead,  ominous  silence  was  his  only  answer. 

"  Very  well !  Deputy-director,  march  gang 
No.  79  round  to  the  bath-room ;  strip,  and  let 
every  man  be  searched  from  head  to  foot ;  then 
bring  me  the  letter  !  "     And  so  saying,  he  retired. 

When  the  men  heard  the  deputy-director  give 
the  command,  "  Right  about  face  !  Quick  march  !  " 
they  instantly  obeyed ;  but  when  they  reached  the 
bath-room,  and  were  ordered  to  strip,  they  paused. 

**  Strip,  do  you  hear  ?  Strip  !  "  cried  the  chief 
warder. 

They  looked  at  each  other ;  then  they  looked  at 
him  with  a  stony  glare  ;  but  no  man  moved  hand 
or  foot — no  man  spoke.  There  was  a  dead 
silence. 

Then  the  deputy  held  a  whispered  colloc[uy  with 
one  of  his  men,  with  the  result  that  the  latter 
hastily  quitted  the  bath-room. 

The  men  still  remained  at  "  attention,"  and 
might  have  been  so  many  statues. 

Four  minutes  later  the  Governor  returned  in 
person. 

"  What's  this  I  hear  ?  Eefuse  obedience  to  my 
orders !  Strip  ! — do  you  hear  ? — strip  !  Very  well 
— very  well !     I  shall  know  what  to  do  to-morrow. 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  261 

Deputy-director,  march  these  men  back  to  their 
cells." 

Again  the  word  of  command  was  given.  Again 
the  men  obeyed,  and  were  marched  back  to  their 
ward  and  locked  up. 

Their  implacable  tyrant  followed,  growled  some 
order  to  one  of  the  warders,  and  paced  up  and 
down  outside  the  cells. 

Presently  the  dinner-bell  was  heard.  Tramp, 
tramp,  came  the  warders,  passing  by,  carrying 
steaming  rations  of  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding 
to  the  prisoners  in  the  other  wards. 

When  the  last  footfall  had  died  away,  and  the 
delicious  odours  had  permeated  every  cell  of  the 
Devil's  Own,  the  Governor  said  in  a  hard  voice, 
**  Nov/,  men,  will  you  j)roduce  that  letter  ?  " 

Silence  was  still  his  only  answer. 

"  Very  well,  then !  Officer,  serve  out  to  these 
men  rations  of  bread  and  water  for  their  Christmas 
dinner.  Perhaps  that  may  bring  them  to  their 
senses." 

This  barbarous  order  broke  the  silence,  and,  as 
the  Governor  passed  down  the  avenue,  a  howl 
burst  on  either  side  as  if  it  had  risen  from  opposite 
cages  of  wild  beasts.  The  warders  in  charge  vainly 
tried  to  obtain  silence  ;  they  were  overpowered  by 
a  torrent  of  execrations. 

At  last  they  locked  the  cells,  and  returned  to 
their  Christmas  dinners.  Then  Ginger  appeared 
upon  the  scene.  How  it  was  he  was  not  locked  up 
no  one  could  understand,  but  there  was  collusion 


262  RACHEL   DENE. 

somewhere.  He  bad  obtained — stolen,  most  likely 
— from  the  kitchen  one  or  two  grills  of  beef  and 
pudding,  which  he  conveyed  to  Jack  and  Fitz- 
herbert,  and  one  or  two  other  favourite  persons. 
He  had  also  got  a  quantity  of  tobacco  and  methy- 
lated spirit ;  one  or  the  other,  sometimes  both, 
were  thrust  under  the  door  of  every  cell.  At  first 
the  men  were  soothed  by  the  unwonted  stimulant, 
and,  in  nearly  every  case,  they  sank  into  a  stupid 
torpor  of  sleep. 

Night  fell  soon.  When  the  gas  was  lighted  in 
the  corridor,  empty  and  hungry  stomachs  began 
to  assert  themselves.  By-and-by  came  strains  of 
distant  music,  and  sounds  of  laughter  from  the 
Governor's  quarters,  from  the  officers'  quarters, 
from  the  warders'  quarters.  Evidently  these  gentle- 
men are  keeping  Christmas. 

Pleasant  this  for  hungry  and  empty  men  ! 

It  wanted  some  four  hours  for  the  time  fixed  for 
the  escape.  Jack  Heywood  and  Fitzherbert  were 
in  a  fever.  Still  more  music— more  laughter  from 
within  and  without.  The  prisoners  became  angry, 
then  they  became  furious. 

Presently  a  merry  ballad  is  heard  from  the 
Governor's  quarters.  In  reply,  a  ruffian,  with  a 
stentorian  voice,  roars  out  a  ribald  song,  and 
every  man  from  every  cell  roars  forth  the  chorus. 
The  sound  is  taken  up  in  the  next  ward,  and  the 
next,  and  the  next,  till  it  arises  to  one  infernal 
roar,  which  rings  through  every  ward. 

The   man    on    guard   summoned  the   principal 


A    ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  263 

night  warder,  who  in  his  turn  summoned  his  men. 
Cell  after  cell  was  opened ;  innocent  or  guilty  were 
dragged  out  and  flung,  neck  and  crop,  into  the 
punishment  cells.  Instead  of  allaying  the  blood- 
fever,  this  brutality  made  it  worse.  Half-drunken 
officers  were  summoned  from  the  song  and  dance, 
from  the  wassail  bowl  and  the  yule  log.  Cells 
were  unlocked,  refractory  men  —  not  without 
desperate  hand  struggles — were  beaten  into  sense- 
lessness, and  flung,  head  foremost,  into  punish- 
ment cells,  while  the  torrent  of  groans,  and 
shrieks,  and  shouts  of  "  Murder  !  "  made  night 
hideous.  Amidst  this  foretaste  of  Pandemonium, 
the  Governor  made  his  appearance  in  evening 
dress. 

In  vain  he  tried  to  make  himself  heard  above 
the  din. 

At  last,  during  a  momentary  pause,  he  roared 
out,  "  A  mutiny  !  " 

Then  he  wheeled  round,  and  telephoned  to  the 
town  for  soldiers. 

Meanwhile,  the  rebels  remained  rebellious.  More 
cells  were  thrown  open,  more  men  were  dragged 
out  and  punished.  It  was  difficult  to  say  which 
was  the  maddest,  the  prisoners  or  the  gaolers. 

Suddenly  a  stentorian  voice  shouted  out  from 
the  main  corridor,  "  Burn  the  d — d  place  down — 
burn  it !     We  can  die  but  once,  any  how  !  " 

A  thousand  voices  responded  in  a  hoarse  chorus, 
**  Tear  down  the  gas — burn  the  prison  ! " 

The  frantic  prisoners  were  in  the  act  of  carrying 


264  RACHEL  DENE. 

out  this  threat,  the  confusion  was  worse  con- 
founded, the  tumult  was  at  its  height,  when  the 
tramp  of  soldiers  were  heard  in  the  distance.  It 
came  nearer  and  nearer.  A  cry  of  "  Halt !  "  was 
heard ;  the  tramp  ceased.  Then,  locks,  holts,  and 
hars  were  heard  to  fly  asunder,  and  again  the  word 
of  command  was  given. 

"  Quick  march  !     This  way  !  " 

Tramp,  tramp  again,  the  soldiers  filed  in  the  hall 
at  the  double  ;  and  side  by  side  with  the  Captain, 
walked  the  Governor. 

"  Halt !     Attention  !     Fix  bayonets  !  " 

At  this  instant,  and  at  the  same  moment,  the 
cells  of  Jack  Heywood  and  Fitzherbert  were  thrown 
rapidly  open.  They  were  in  the  rear  of  the  sol* 
diers  and  unnoticed. 

A  friendly  voice  whispered,  "  Coast  clear  !  Now's 
your  time.     Cut  away  !  " 

No  further  incentive  is  needed  to  speed  their 
fleeting  feet.  They  now  carry  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  and  are  liable  to  be  shot  down  like  dogs. 
As  they  reach  the  outer  gate,  the  porter,  who  has 
been  squared,  occupies  himself  in  leisurely  lower- 
ing the  portcullis;  but  an  assistant,  called  in  at 
the  last  moment,  catches  sight  of  the  convicts, 
rings  the  alarm  bell,  and  shrieks  out,  "  Prisoners 
escaping  through  the  portcullis  !  " 

The  signal  is  responded  to,  and  a  non-com- 
missioned officer  and  half  a  dozen  soldiers  come 
dashing  up.  The  portcullis  had  just  dropped  to 
the    ground,   but    although    it  interposed  for  the 


A   ROMANTIC  EPISODE.  265 

moment  a  barrier  between  the  pursued  and  the 
pursuers,  unfortunately  it  interposed  no  barrier 
to  the  pursuers'  rifles.  The  moon,  too,  was  at  its 
full,  and  lighted  up  every  movement  of  the  fugi- 
tives, who  were  half-way  down  the  zig-zag  path, 
below  which  the  boat  was  concealed. 

"Present!     Fire!" 

The  order  is  instantly  obeyed,  and  Fitzherbert 
fell  wounded  to  the  ground.  But,  strong  as 
Hercules,  Jack  Heywood  stooped  for  a  moment, 
lifted  his  lifeless  comrade  upon  his  shoulder,  and 
again  took  to  his  heels  down  the  precipitous  side 
of  the  cliff. 

By  this  time  the  soldiers  came  rushing  down  the 
path.  They  gain  the  brink  of  the  precipice  just  as 
Jack  has  reached  the  boat,  in  which  four  men  are 
lying  to  their  oars.  Jack  threw  the  body  of  Fitz 
aboard,  leapt  in  himself,  and  as  he  did  so  a  volley 
of  musketry  came  from  the  precipice.  The  bullets 
whisked  harmlessly  over  his  head. 

The  next  moment  a  thick  black  cloud  obscured 
the  moon,  darkness  fell  upon  the  scene,  and  under 
•its  cover  they  were  puUing  safely  down  the  Channel 
towards  the  open  sea. 


:266  RACHEL   DENE, 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

IN   BRITTANY. 

The  prime  mover  in  this  desperate  attempt  to 
interfere  with  legal  justice  was  Algernon,  Lord 
Delamere,  and  he  was  aided  and  abetted  by  that 
amiable  blackleg,  Major  Deuceace.  Algernon,  we 
may  mention,  Avas  second  cousin  to  the  famous 
Ned  Barnaby,  of  the  Guards,  whose  escapades  in 
and  out  of  the  battlefield  were  the  talk  of  Europe  ; 
and  he,  like  his  relation,  carried  into  modern 
affairs  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Apart  from  his  affection  for  Fitzherbert,  he  looked 
upon  the  whole  affair  as  a  "lark  ;  "  but  when  the 
Captain,  bleeding  and  unconscious,  was  brought 
on  board  the  little  cruiser,  Delamere,  who  was 
waiting  on  the  deck,  saw  that  it  was  no  laughing 
matter. 

No  sooner  were  the  men  on  board  than  the 
vessel  stood  out  to  sea.  Fitzherbert  was  carried 
below,  and  his  wounds  dressed  by  Deuceace,  who 
was  a  bit  of  a  surgeon.  When  the  poor  fellow 
opened  his  eyes  he  saw  a  dear  and  familiar  face 
bending  over  him. 

"  Julia,  is  it  you  ? "  he  murmured,  gratefully. 
"Where  am  I?  What  has  happened?  Ah!  I 
remember  !  "  and  he  again  became  unconscious. 

Julia  turned  to  Deuceace,  who  stood  quietly 
looking  on. 


IN  BRITTANY,  267 

"Will  he  recover,  sir?  Are  his  wounds  dan- 
gerous ?  " 

"  They've  peppered  him,"  returned  the  Major ; 
"but  I've  stopped  the  bleeding,  and  I  think  there's 
a  chance  yet.  The  cowards  !  To  shoot  him  in  the 
back,  like  a  dog !  " 

Sobbing  wildly,  the  girl  knelt  by  her  lover,  and 
passionately  kissed  his  hand. 

"  You'd  better  not  disturb  him,"  said  Deuceace, 
gently.  "  I  think  he's  sleeping.  Poor  Fitz  !  I 
wish  there  was  a  proper  sawbones  on  board,  but 
I've  done  my  best." 

"Let  me  stay  with  him,"  pleaded  Julia.  "I 
will  be  very  quiet — only  do  not  drive  me  away  !  " 

Deuceace  could  do  no  more ;  so  he  left  her  to 
her  sorrow,  and  went  on  deck,  where  he  found 
Lord  Delamere  conversing  with  the  other  convict. 
Jack  Heywood.  The  vessel  was  by  this  time  right 
out  at  sea,  and  heading  westward  through  cloud 
and  rain. 

"What's  to  be  done  now?"  said  Delamere,  as 
his  friend  came  up.  "  A  pretty  mess  we  appear  to 
have  made  of  it !  By  this  time  the  escape  will  be 
telegraphed  to  every  station,  and  we  shall  have  her 
Majesty's  cruisers  running  the  seas  in  pursuit." 

"  Penal  servitude  for  every  one  of  us,  I  suppose  !  " 
cried  the  Major,  lighting  a  cheroot,  and  looking 
Jack  from  head  to  foot.  "  I'm  afraid,  too,  poor 
Fitz  is  booked  !  " 

"I  hope  not,"  returned  Delamere.  Then,  lead- 
ing Deuceace  aside,  he  whispered,  "  That  fellow  is 


268  RACHEL  DENE. 

named  Heywood,  who  was  convicted  for  a  murder 
done  in  Yorkshire.  I've  told  him  that  his  friends 
were  in  the  job  with  us,  and  planked  down  their 
money  to  help  us ;  but,  upon  my  life,  it's  an  ugly 
business  for  all  concerned  !  " 

Here  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  a  squat,  thickset 
man  of  the  Dirk  Hatteraick  type,  came  up  and 
joined  them. 

"Bad  look-out,  this!"  he  said.  "  Which  way 
are  we  to  steer  ?  As  sure  as  Davy  Jones,  the 
cruisers  will  be  after  us  !  " 

"  You  knew  that  before  you  undertook  the  job," 
cried  Delamere.  "We're  all  in  the  same  boat; 
now,  old  man,  what's  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  We  might  run  along  there,  and  put  these 
lubbers  out  somewhere  in  Devon.  I  know  every 
creek  and  anchorage  there,"  said  the  sailor. 

"  No  good,"  returned  his  lordship.  "  The  coast- 
guards will  be  watching  everywhere.  No,  turn 
about,  and  steer  for  the  coast  of  Brittany.  The 
wind's  veering  round,  and  we  can  run." 

The  order  was  obeyed,  sullenly  enough,  for 
though  the  men  were  to  receive  for  the  affair 
enough  money  to  make  them  independent  of  the 
sea  for  life,  they  had  only  just  begun  to  realize  the 
danger  of  the  whole  proceeding.  Delamere  and 
Deuceace  stood  smoking  and  talking  together, 
when  Jack  Heywood  again  approached  and  saluted 
them. 

"You  said,  gentlemen,  that  friends  of  mine 
helped  you.     Where  are  they  now  ?  " 


IN  BRITTANY.  269 

"  In  the  town  of  Weymouth,"  returned  Dela- 
mere.  "  An  old  man  and  woman.  They  did  not 
tell  me,  by  the  way,  who  you  were." 

"  My  name  is  Heywood,"  said  Jack,  drawing 
himself  up,  "  and  I  was  unjustly  convicted  of 
murder !  " 

"  So  I've  just  heard,"  answered  my  lord,  dryly. 

"  I  see  you  don't  believe  me,"  continued  Jack ; 
"but,  as  God  is  my  Judge,  I'm  an  innocent  man. 
'Twas  the  knowledge  o'  that  made  me  mad  some- 
times yonder  i'  prison.  But  I  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart  for  what  you've  done,  though  what's  to 
become  of  me  now  I  don't  know." 

And  he  turned  aside,  to  hide  the  tears  that 
were  streaming  down  his  face. 

"  Poor  devil! "  muttered  Delamere.  "  Don't  look 
like  a  murderer,  either !  But,  for  that  matter," 
he  added,  with  a  grin,  "  we're  all  convicts  now.  I 
say,  Deuceace,  suppose  we  hoist  the  black  flag, 
and  take  to  piracy.  We  shall  never  be  able  to 
return  to  civilized  life  again  !  " 

The  night  passed,  and  Fitzherbert  still  sur- 
vived, though  more  or  less  unconscious  of  his  con- 
dition. Fortunately,  though  there  was  a  strong 
north-westerly  wind,  the  sea  was  comparatively 
smooth,  and  the  little  vessel  sailed  gallantly  on  to 
the  coast  of  France.  The  sailors  kept  a  sharp 
look-out,  but  saw  only  a  few  sailing  ships  and 
fishing-boats.  Early  the  next  morning,  however, 
they  sighted  a  large  English  vessel,  which  they 
recognized  as  a  man-of-war.     She  passed  within 


270  RACHEL  DENE. 

a  couple  of  miles  of  them,  with  the  English  colours 
flying,  and,  for  the  moment,  every  man's  heart 
was  in  his  mouth,  but  she  disappeared  presently, 
to  their  infinite  relief. 

Not  until  the  second  morning  did  they  sight  the 
Breton  coast.  Creeping  close  in  the  morning  grey, 
they  found  themselves  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a 
small  fishing  village  at  the  mouth  of  a  river.  The 
shallows  thereabouts  were  very  dangerous,  and 
they  had  constantly  to  take  soundings. 

"  Know  where  you  are  ?  "  asked  Delamere  of 
the  captain. 

"All  right,  my  lord,"  was  the  reply.  "Been 
here  before  with  a  cargo." 

"We  must  get  the  wounded  man  ashore  as  soon 
as  possible,"  continued  Delamere.  "  I  think  we're 
safe  here." 

It  was  decided,  however,  that  both  Fitzherbert 
and  Heywood  should  exchange  their  prison  dresses 
for  a  couple  of  rough  suits  purchased  of  the  sailors. 
As  the  vessel  ran  in  towards  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  the  change  was  effected — not  without  some 
inconvenience  and  pain  to  poor  Fitzherbert.  Then 
the  anchor  was  run  down,  and  a  boat  was  lowered. 
While  they  were  bringing  Fitzherbert  on  deck, 
Delamere  took  the  sailors  aside,  and  paid  them 
their  money  out  of  a  heavy  bag  of  gold. 

**  What  shall  you  do  now  ? "  he  asked  the 
captain. 

The  sea-dog  grinned,  and  jingled  the  money  in 
his  pockets. 


IN  BRITTANY.  271 

"Eun  down  to  Brest,  and  go  on  the  spree,"  he 
replied. 

"I  needn't  ask  you  fellows  to  keep  quiet,"  said 
his  lordship.  "  No  one  knows  of  this  business  but 
ourselves,  and  we're  all  equally  culpable.  So 
mum's  the  word  !  " 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Fitzherbert  was  lying 
in  bed,  in  a  small  village  inn,  half-farm,  half- 
cabaret.  His  friends  had  brought  a  French 
surgeon  to  him,  who,  after  carefully  examining 
his  wounds,  pronounced  that  with  care  he  might 
possibly  recover.  It  was  a  very  bad  case,  how- 
ever ;  and  by  this  time  the  patient  was  tossing 
about  deliriously,  in  a  state  of  violent  fever.  Julia 
O'Gallagher  sat  by  the  bedside,  eager  to  nurse 
him  back  to  life. 

"  If  you  knew — if  you  knew  !  "  she  sobbed. 
"  Oh,  gentlemen,  it  was  all  my  father's  doing ! 
Your  friend  .was  too  noble  to  say  a  word  in  his 
own  defence.  He  was  silent  that  he  might  spare 
me  pain  ! " 

"  Poor  Fitz  ! "  muttered  Delamere,  dashing 
away  a  tear.  **  He  was  always  staunch,  wasn't 
he,  Deuceace  ?  " 

*'  Eather  !  "  said  the  Major.  "  Well,  he's  got  a 
good  nurse,  at  any  rate." 

They  left  Julia  alone  with  the  patient,  and 
walked  down  to  the  window.  Here  they  found 
Jack  Heywood,  dressed  in  his  sailor's  suit,  and 
looking  sadly  out  to  sea. 


272  RACHEL   DENE. 

"How  is  he,  gentlemen?"  asked  Jack. 

"  Much  the  same.  Sawbones  thinks  he  may 
pull  round." 

"It's  very  strange  that  we  should  be  here  to- 
gether," continued  Jack.  "  I  saw  him  once  or  twice 
in  prison,  and  recognized  him  directly.  He  was 
a  great  friend  of  Ealph  Holhs,  of  Deepdale." 

"  Now  Earl  Beauchamp,"  said  Delamere.  "  Yes, 
that's  right  enough.  Beauchamp  and  he  have 
always  been  close  pals." 

"  I  met  them  together  at  Doncaster  t'  very  night 
before  t'  murder,"  continued  Jack;  and  as  he  pro- 
ceeded, he  fell  from  excitement  into  the  old  familiar 
Yorkshire  dialect.  "  I  had  gotten  more  drink  than 
was  good  for  me,  and  I  ha'  sometimes  thought  they 
two  played  me  a  scurvy  trick.  Anyhow,  after  I 
had  drank  wi'  Hollis  and  t'  Captain,  I  lost  my 
senses.  When  I  got  them  again,  I  was  a  prisoner 
in  t'  gaol,  accused  o'  killing  t'  best  man  that  ever 
liyed — t'  man  I  loved  best  of  all  men  in  t'  world 
— my  poor  foster-father,  Jabez  Pryke." 

The  two  gentlemen  looked  at  him  in  wonder,  for 
his  voice  was  choked  with  tears,  and  he  was  sobbing 
like  a  child. 

"  Jabez  is  yonder  up  i'  heaven,"  he  cried, 
lifting  his  hands,  "  and  he  knows — God  bless  him  ! 
— that  I  loved  him  dear.  I  couldna  have  done  't ! 
I  couldna  have  raised  a  hand  to  harm  Jabez  !  But 
'tis  all  a  blank  still  'tween  the  time  when  I  drank 
wi'  those  chaps  and  the  time  I  were  a  prisoner  in 
gaol ! " 


IN  BRITTANY.  273 

''  You  were  driinli,  you  see,"  suggested  Delamere. 
"At  any  rate,  I'm  sure  poor  Fitz  would  never  play 
you  a  scurvy  trick,  as  you  call  it." 

And  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  walked  towards 
the  shore  with  Deuceace.  Though  capable  of  doing 
so  much  for  a  comrade  of  his  own  set,  he  had  little 
or  no  sympathy  with  the  criminal  classes,  and  in 
his  eyes  Jack  was  a  commonplace  convict. 

"  Queer,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  muttered.  "  Well,  it's  a 
queer  world !  " 

"  Doocid  queer  !  "  chimed  in  Deuceace,  who  was 
no  more  eloquent  than  his  friend. 

Jack  watched  them,  and  his  heart  swelled  in- 
dignantly, for  he  felt  that  they  did  not  believe  a 
word  of  his  story.  He  was  a  free  man,  but  the 
taint  of  the  prison  was  still  upon  him,  the  shadow 
of  a  hideous  crime.  What  was  he  to  do  ?  He  had 
escaped,  but  he  was  still  an  outcast.  He  thought 
of  his  faithful  old  friends,  of  Kachel  Dene.  How 
was  he  to  communicate  with  them?  Would  he 
ever  see  them  again?  Better,  far  better,  he 
thought,  if  the  bullets  had  struck  him  instead  of 
the  other,  and  he  had  died  at  the  moment  of  his 
escape. 

While  he  stood  in  despair,  the  two  gentlemen 
returned. 

"We've  been  talking  it  over,"  said  Delamere. 
"  We  think  you'd  better  not  stay  here.  Your  best 
plan,  if  you  don't  want  to  get  caught  again,  is  to 
make  tracks  for  America." 

"  I  have  no  money,"  answered  Jack. 


274  RACHEL   DENE. 

"I'll  get  that  all  right.  I'll  lend  you  fifty 
pounds." 

"  Why  do  you  want  me  to  go,  my  lord  ?  Can't 
I  stay  here  a  while,  and  see  if  that  poor  chap  gets 
better  ?  " 

"It  isn't  safe,"  replied  Delamere.  "There  is 
certain  to  be  a  bother,  and  I  rather  fancy  the 
extradition  treaty  would  be  put  in  operation  as 
soon  as  our  hiding-place  is  discovered.  Now  we 
can  manage  to  cook  up  some  story  about  the  sick 
man ;  but  if  you  hang  about,  it  might  get  us  into 
trouble." 

"  Very  well,  my  lord,"  said  Jack,  sturdily.  "  I 
see  what  it  is  :  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me,  because 
in  the  eyes  of  t'  law  I'm  a  murderer  and  a  scoundrel ! 
But  I'll  go— I'll  go  !  " 

"  The  best  thing  you  can  do.  Here's  the 
money !  "  He  placed  some  notes  and  gold  in 
Jack's  hand ;  then,  turning  to  Deuceace  with  a 
laugh,  he  added,  "  I  say,  old  man,  I'm  nearly 
cleared  out !  I  never  told  you  how  they  stared  at 
Coutts's  when  I  handed  in  my  cheque  and  asked 
for  a  thousand  pounds  in  fivers.  I  shall  consider 
it  a  cheap  investment  if  we  pull  poor  Fitz  round." 

It  was  now  growing  late  in  the  afternoon.  On 
inquiry,  Jack  ascertained  that  a  diligence  would 
leave  the  village  at  midnight,  with  Brest  for  its 
destination ;  and  by  that  diligence  he  arranged  to 
depart.  He  would  doubtless  find  a  vessel  at  Brest 
to  take  him  on  to  the  Far  West.  As  soon  as  the 
arrangements   were   made,   he   again   sought   out 


IN  BRITTANY.  275 

Delamero  and  Deiiceace,  who  were  sitting  in  the 
little  cafe  attached  to  the  inn. 

"  Only  one  favour  before  I  go,  gentlemen,"  he 
said.  "  I  want  to  have  one  last  look  at  t'  poor 
chap  upstairs." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  his  lordship.  "  Only  you 
must  not  speak  to  him  ;  he  is  to  be  kept  quiet." 

They  went  upstairs  together  and  knocked  at  the 
bedroom  door.  Julia  O'Gallagher,  pale  and  calm 
as  any  sister  of  mercy,  let  them  in. 

"  He  is  very  restless,"  she  whispered.  "  I  have 
given  him  the  doctor's  draught,  but  it  does  not 
seem  to  do  him  good." 

They  approached  the  bedside.  Fitzherbert  lay 
on  his  back,  his  eyes  wide  open,  breathing  heavily 
as  if  in  pain. 

"Poor  chap! — poor  chap!"  murmured  Jack, 
looking  down  upon  him. 

At  that  moment  the  wounded  man  gave  a  start, 
and  turned  his  head.  His  eyes  looked  straight 
into  Julia's  face. 

**  Who's  that?"  he  cried. 

"It's  me — Jack  Heywood,"  answered  Jack,  with 
a  sob,  "  who  was  with  you  in  t'  prison.  Don't  you 
know  me,  Captain  ?  I  met  you  long  ago  wi'  Ealph 
Hollis,  at  Doncaster." 

"  Come  away,  man,"  said  Delamere,  taking  Jack 
by  the  arm. 

But  before  they  could  leave  the  room  Fitzherbert 
called  them  back. 

"  Stop  !     Don*t  go  !  "   he  cried.     **  I  remember 


276  RACHEL   DENE. 

now.  Come  here,  I  say.  It's  all  coming  back 
upon  me  before  I  die.  Give  me  some  brandy — 
quick !  " 

Julia  glanced  at  Deuceace,  who  nodded  assent, 
and  bending  gently  over  him,  she  wet  his  lips  with 
spirits  and  water.  He  was  quite  conscious  now, 
and  sensible.  Haggard  and  wild,  panting  for 
breath,  he  waved  to  Jack  and  the  others,  beckon- 
ing them  to  the  bedside. 

"Ah,  Algy,  old  man!  God  bless  you  for  what 
you've  done ;  but  it's  no  use — no  use  !   I'm  going !  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  sobbed  Julia.  "  Calm  yourself, 
dear  ;  you'll  soon  be  well." 

"  I  shall  never  be  well  again,"  he  answered, 
reaching  out  for  her  hand.  "My  poor  Julia! 
God  will  look  after  you  when  I  am  gone.  Algy, 
old  man,  I  loved  her — remember  that !  " 

"  I'll  remember,"  replied  Delamere,  almost 
breaking  down. 

"But  I  can't  die  till  I've  told  you  the  God's 
truth.  You  see  that  man  ?  Look  at  him  !  God 
brought  us  together,  and  punished  me.  Listen, 
all  of  you.  You  shall  listen  !  We  met  him  at 
Doncaster,  Ealph  Hollis  and  I,  and  doctored  his 
drink.  Next  day  we  heard  he  had  been  taken  up 
for  murder.  I  thought  him  guilty,  for  he  was 
taken  red-handed  with  the  murdered  man.  It  was 
a  lie  !  He  didn't  do  it !  He  was  as  innocent  as  I 
was,  poor  devil !  I  wouldn't  have  let  him  hang, 
but  I  let  him  go  to  a  fate  worse  than  hanging. 
God  forgive  me  ! — God  forgive  me  !  " 


A   SUNBEAM  IN  DEEP  DALE.  277 

In  his  wild  frenzy  of  truth-telling,  Fitzherbert 
sat  up  in  the  bed,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Jack,  his 
mouth  twitching  as  if  with  palsy. 

"Come  away,"  said  Delamere;  "it's  killing 
him !     Lie  down,  old  fellow,  and  go  to  sleep." 

"No!"  said  Fitzherbert.  "Don't  leave  me, 
Algy  !  Hear  all  I've  got  to  say  !  He's  innocent, 
I  tell  you  !  I  know  it,  because  I  had  the  truth 
from  the  other  man's  own  lips.  And  it  wasn't 
murder,  after  all !  He  swore  it  wasn't  murder,  but 
an  accident ! " 

"  Who — ivho  swore  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Jack.  "  Tell 
me,  for  God's  sake  !  " 

"Ealph  Hollis ! "  replied  Fitzherbert:  and  he 
fell,  fainting,  back  upon  the  bed. 


CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

A    SUNBEAM   IN    DEEPDALE. 

Rachel  Dene  sat  alone  in  the  drawing-room  of  the 
great  house  at  Deepdale. 

Her  grandfather  and  grandmother  were  bath 
away  in  London,  and  she  was  left  in  solitude,  to 
entertain  her  own  sad  thoughts. 

The  monotony  of  her  life  had  been  broken,  only 
a  few  days  before,  by  a  letter  from  Joan  Heywood, 
announcing  the  escape  of  Jack  from  Portland,  fol- 
lowing close  upon  which  had  come  the  sensational 


278  RACHEL   DENE. 

accounts  in  the  newspapers  of  the  mutiny  in  the 
prison,  and  the  escape  of  the  two  prisoners. 
With  a  wildly-beating  heart,  she  had  read  the 
reports,  which  culminated  in  the  description  of 
the  flight  down  the  shore  by  night,  the  wounding 
of  one  of  the  convicts,  and  the  disappearance  of 
both  on  board  an  unknown  sailing  vessel.  One 
of  the  two  had  been  dangerously  hurt.  But  which 
of  them  ?  The  reports  didn't  tell — the  reports 
did  not  know.  Was  it  her  lover  ? — or  was  it  his 
companion  ?  Sick  with  sympathy  and  terror,  she 
read  the  wild  record  over  and  over  again,  but 
could  come  to  no  conclusion. 

Later  details  proved  that  all  the  machinery  of 
police  had  been  set  to  work  to  trace  the  fugitives, 
in  vain.  The  coasts  were  everywhere  patrolled 
and  watched,  armed  ships  were  scouring  the  sea, 
the  hue  and  cry  was  out  on  every  side,  but  the 
missing  vessel  had  cunningly  evaded  pursuit. 
Jack,  then,  had  escaped  ?  But  how  ? — and  was 
he  dead  or  living?  Eachel  Dene  would  have 
given  the  world  to  know. 

Ralph  Hollis  was  still  in  the  Far  West.  After 
some  months  of  salmon-fishing  in  Canada,  he  had 
gone  on  to  Manitoba,  and  thence  across  country 
to  Denver  and  San  Francisco.  He  had  written 
frequently — long  letters,  to  which  her  grandfather 
had  replied,  and  in  one  of  which,  received  only 
a  few  weeks  past,  he  had  boldly  expressed  the 
hope  that  Eachel  might  some  day  become  Lady 
Beauchamp. 


A    SUNBEAM  IN  DEEPDALE.  279 

Jacob  Dene  had  read  her  the  words,  and  they 
seemed  so  kindly,  so  respectful,  and  so  loyal,  that 
she  was  deeply  touched ;  but  she  had  only  said, 
with  a  sad  smile,  "  Nay,  grandpapa,  thou  knowest 
I  shall  never  marry." 

She  had  long  seen,  nevertheless,  that  the  old 
people  were  working  zealously  on  Ealph's  behalf — 
a  knowledge  which  would  have  made  her  very 
angry  if  she  had  not  been  completely  possessed 
with  the  sentiment  of  the  young  Earl's  kindness 
in  her  time  of  trouble. 

In  point  of  fact,  Ealph  had  been  on  the  point 
of  returning  to  England ;  had  actually  taken  his 
passage  home  by  the  North  German  Lloyd  line 
from  New  York,  when  he  read  in  the  English 
newspapers  an  account  of  Fitzherbert's  arrest  and 
conviction.  A  nameless  terror  filled  him,  and  he 
dared  not  return,  lest  the  only  man  who  knew  his 
secret  should  involve  him  in  his  downfall.  No; 
he  would  let  the  thing  blow  over,  and,  before 
sailing,  discover  if  there  was  any  danger.  Meeting 
an  old  comrade  in  New  York,  he  went  on  with 
him  to  New  Orleans,  where  he  fell  back  into  some 
of  his  old  habits,  and  relapsed  into  gambling  and 
dissipation. 

As  Rachel  sat  looking  out  at  the  wintry  prospect, 
thinking  of  Jack,  and  wondering  if  he  were  alive 
or  dead,  a  knock  came  to  the  door,  and  the 
waiting-maid  brought  in  a  card,  saying  that  a 
gentleman  wished  to  see  her  on  particular  busi- 
ness.    She  looked  at  the  card  and  read,    "  Lord 


38o  RACHEL   DENE. 

Delamere,"  a  name  quite  unfamiliar  to  her ;  but 
she  asked  the  maid  to  show  the  visitor  into  the 
drawing-room,  and  as  he  entered,  rose  to  meet 
him  with  characteristic  self-possession. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Dene,"  said  his  lord- 
ship, beaming  upon  her  with  his  good-humoured 
boyish  face.  "  You  must  let  me  apologize  for 
intruding  upon  you  without  an  introduction.  I 
have  come  a  long  way  to  see  you,  and  am 
glad  to  find  you  at  home."  Then,  seeing  her 
look  of  surprise,  he  added,  "I've  often  heard  of 
you,  Miss  Dene,  from  one  whom  you  know  very 
well." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Eachel,  wondering  still  more. 
"Prithee,  sit  down." 

Delamere  took  a  chair,  and  became  a  little  con- 
fused and  nervous — a  very  unusual  circumstance 
■with  one  generally  so  cool.  He  fidgeted  with  his 
hat,  dropped  his  umbrella,  and  all  the  time  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  nervously  on  the  young  girl's 
face. 

'*  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?  "  he  said,  at  last. 

"I  hope  so,"  she  answered,  smiling. 

"Because,"  he  continued,  smiling  also,  "I'm 
going  to  place  myself  in  your  power.  If  the  police 
knew  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  I  should  very 
likely  wear  a  sample  of  steel  bracelets  before 
to-morrow  morning.  I've  broken  the  laws,  my 
dear  Miss  Dene,  in  an  awful  way.  I'm  a  regular 
criminal,  egad ! " 

She  gazed  at  him  with  fresh  wonder,  and  began 


A   SUNBEAM  IN   DEEPDALE.  281 

to  think  that  he  was,  at  lea&t,  very  eccentric.  He 
certainly  did  not  look  like  a  criminal,  though,  for 
his  face  was  the  picture  of  indolent  good  humour. 
His  next  words  startled  her,  and  her  colour  came 
and  went  wildly  as  he  spoke  them. 

**  Have  you  read  in  the  papers  of  that  affair  at 
Portland  ?  " 

**  The  escape  from  prison  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Yes, 
yes ! 

"Well,  you'll  hardly  believe  it,  but  7  was  in  it, 
and  that  is  what  has  brought  me  here." 

Rachel  rose  to  her  feet  with  a  cry. 

"  Thou  hast  news  of  Jack — of  Mr.  Heywood  ? 
Tell  me  quickly,  is  he  alive  or  dead  ?  " 

"Make  your  mind  easy.  He  is  very  much 
alive." 

"But  one  was  wounded.  I  have  been  in  terror 
ever  since  lest " 

"  It  was  not  your  friend  whom  the  rascals  shot 
down,"  said  Lord  Delamere ;  "  it  was  poor  Fitz, 
my  chum — the  best  fellow  in  the  world !  We 
planned  their  escape.  It  was  well  managed ;  but 
poor  Fitz  got  his  quietus.     He's — he's  dead  !  " 

And  the  speaker  drew  his  hand  across  his  eyes, 
while  his  hearty  face  grew  sad  and  clouded. 

"But  I  gave  him  a  promise  before  he  died," 
continued  Delamere  to  Rachel,  who  scarcely  heard 
him,  for  she  was  weeping  joyfully,  and  gazing 
silently.  "  I  gave  him  a  promise,  and  I'm  going  to 
keep  it.  With  his  dying  breath.  Miss  Dene,  he 
cleared  an  innocent  man  ;    more  than  that,  he  had 


282  RACHEL  DENE. 

everything  set  down,  and  legally  witnessed,  and 
signed  it  with  his  own  hand." 

"What  dost  thou  mean?"  cried  Eachel.  He 
said — he  said " 

"  That  young  Heywood  was  no  murderer.  That 
the  murder — it  wasn't  murder,  though — was  done 
by  some  one  else." 

"  I  knew  it — I  knew  it !  Oh,  thank  God — thank 
God  ! " 

At  the  joyful  news,  all  her  love  sprang  up  like  a 
fountain,  and  she  wept  like  a  child.  As  she  tried 
to  dry  her  eyes,  she  glanced  towards  the  door,  and 
uttered  a  wild  cry.  On  the  threshold  of  the  room, 
framed  in  the  doorway,  stood  a  pale,  bearded  man, 
looking  at  her.  He  wore  a  rough  sailor's  suit,  and 
was  otherwise  much  changed  ;  but  she  knew  him 
in  a  moment. 

"  Jack !  "  she  cried ;  and  he  sprang  forward  and 
caught  her  in  his  arms  as  she  fainted  away. 

When  she  recovered  she  was  lying  on  the  sofa, 
and  Jack — the  same  kind,  gentle  Jack  of  old — was 
bending  over  her. 

"Forgive  me,  Eachel!"  he  said.  "I  thought 
you  would  be  glad  to  see  me  again,  and  I  think 
you  were ;  but  I'd  no  right  to  take  thee  by  sur- 
prise like  that,  my  lass.  I've  come  all  the  way  to 
Deepdale  to  see  thee,  and  tell  thee  some  good  news." 

She  blushed  and  shrank  away,  for  in  a  moment 
of  joyful  impulse  she  had  revealed  her  whole  heart 
to  the  man  who  had  scarcely  ever  dared  to  speak 
to  her  of  love. 


A    SUNBEAM  IN  DEEPDALE.  283 

"Thou  canst  prove  thy  innocence,"  she  said. 
"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad,  so  glad  !  " 

The  man's  face  saddened. 

"  Maybe,  lass ;  when  'tis  all  proved,  you'll  be  a 
bit  sorry  too ;  and  I'm  in  trouble  still.  The 
hue  and  cry  is  out  after  me,  and  if  the  police 
knew  I  was  here,  they  would  take  me  back  to 
gaol." 

She  looked  round.  The  room  was  empty,  for 
Lord  Delamere  had  discreetly  retired.  She  sprang 
up,  and  closed  the  door. 

"  Take  thee  ?  But  thou  art  innocent !  Ah,  I 
knew  it !  " 

"  I'll  have  to  j)rove  it,  my  lass,"  said  Jack,  '*  and 
that'll  cause  more  sore  hearts  than  one.  But 
there,  let  me  look  at  thee !  Let  me  see  the  sweet 
face  I  ha'  dreamed  of  so  many  nights  i'  my 
trouble  !  I  ha'  had  a  bad  time,  my  lass,  since  last 
we  met,  but  I'd  go  through  it  all  again  right  gladly 
to  be  sure  0'  one  thing,  and  that  one  thing's  thy 
love  !  " 

He  held  her  in  his  arms,  and  she  didn't  offer 
any  resistance.  Their  lips  met  for  one  moment 
of  supreme  happiness.  Then  she  looked  up,  and 
whispered,  ''  I  knew  thou  wouldst  come  back  to 
me.  Jack !  " 

"  Call  me  that  again,"  he  said. 

"  Jack — dear  Jack !  " 

"  I  was  right,  after  all.  You  do  love  me, 
then  ?  " 

"  I  have  loved  thee  always,  I  think  !  " 


284  RACHEL   DENE. 

"  Always  ?  " 

''  At  least,  as  long  as  I  can  remember.  Most  of 
all,  Jack,  in  thy  great  trouble." 

There  was  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door.  Lord 
Delamere  walked  in,  smiling. 

"  Sorry  to  intrude,  my  lad,  but  we  must  get 
back  to  London.  My  dear  Miss  Dene,  make  your 
mind  easy.  Heywood  here  is  going  to  walk  right 
back  into  the  lion's  mouth,  but  he  won't  stay 
there.  We'll  prove  he's  innocent,  right  up  to  the 
hilt,  egad !  " 

And  he  took  Jack's  hand. 

"  This  is  our  best  friend,"  Jack  cried.  "  We 
mustn't  get  him  into  trouble.  No  man  must  know 
how  it  all  came  about." 

Jack  Heywood  proceeded  straight  to  London 
and  surrendered  himself  to  the  authorities,  while 
Lord  Delamere  went  off  to  his  friend  the  great 
criminal  lawyer,  and  put  the  whole  matter  in  his 
hands.  A  white  lie  was  necessary  to  free  Dela- 
mere and  Deuceace  from  complicity  in  the  escape 
from  Portland,  so  it  was  suggested  that  the  two 
gentlemen,  when  rambling  in  Brittany,  had  found 
Fitzherbert  at  the  point  of  death,  and  by  the 
merest  accident  received  his  last  confession. 
Suspicion  pointed  to  them  as  agents  in  the  escape, 
but  proof  was  difficult,  not  to  say  impossible.  But 
money  and  influence  in  plenty  were  brought  to 
bear  on  the  authorities.  In  a  very  short  time 
Jack's    innocence    was    proved,    and    a    warrant 


A    SUNBEAM  IN  DEEPDALE.  285 

issued  for  the  arrest  of  Ealph  Hollis,  Lord 
Bcauchamp. 

That  warrant,  however,  was  never  executed. 
On  the  very  day  of  its  issue,  information  was 
received  by  cable  that  an  EngHsh  peer,  Earl 
Beauchamp,  had  been  shot  dead  in  a  gambling 
affray  at  New  Orleans.  The  shock  of  the  news 
killed  his  mother.  She  was  thus  spared  the 
knowledge  of  her  son's  great  crime.  Further 
details  confirmed  the  cable  report,  and  added 
shocking  particulars,  with  which  we  decline  to 
trouble  the  reader. 

Jack  Heywood  walked  forth  into  the  sunshine, 
a  free  man.  His  first  impulse  was  to  go  to  Lord 
Delamere,  and  thank  that  kindly  peer  for  all  his 
goodness.  He  found  his  lordship  in  the  smoking- 
room  of  the  club,  in  company  with  Major 
Deuceace.  They  were  looking  sorrowfully  at  a 
letter,  which  ran  as  follows  : — 

"  Dear  Lord  Delamere, 

"  I  am  leaving  England  for  India.  Before 
I  go  I  wish  to  send  you  my  last  adieux,  for  we 
shall  never  meet  again.  God  will  reward  you  for 
your  loyalty  to  your  friend,  the  man  I  loved,  and 
shall  love  until  I  die.  I  do  not  mourn  him  ;  I  am 
too  proud,  too  glad.  He  died  like  an  English 
gentleman,  and  was  happier  in  such  a  death  than 
in  his  life. 

"  Yours  always  truly, 

"Julia  O'Gallagher.' 


286  RACHEL   DENE. 

"Poor  Fitz !  "  said  Delamere,  folding  up  the 
letter. 

*'  Poor  Fitz  !  "  echoed  Deuceace. 

Then  they  shook  hands  with  Jack,  and  asked 
him  to  join  them  in  a  brandy  and  soda.  He 
declined,  saying  he  had  sworn  off  strong  drink  for 
ever,  but  took  some  lemonade. 

**I  say,  you're  wanted  in  Yorkshire,"  said  Lord 
Delamere,  smiling. 

Jack  laughed,  and  wrung  the  gentlemen's  hands. 
He  would  have  hugged  them  both.  Then  he 
rushed  from  the  room,  almost  crying. 

*''  Queer  world  !  "  soliloquized  Delamere. 

"  D — d  queer  !  "  echoed  the  gallant  Major. 

*'  Poor  Fitz  !  " 

"  Poor  Fitz  !  " 

Then  both  gentlemen  looked  at  each  other 
dolefully. 

"  Can't  stand  this,"  said  Algernon,  Lord  Dela- 
mere. "Eing  the  bell!  Here,  waiter,  bring  me 
some  more  brandy  and  soda." 

Our  tale  is  told.  If  the  reader  demands  any 
further  sequel,  let  him  betake  himself  some  day 
to  the  happy  and  prosperous  valley  of  Deepdale. 
There  he  will  learn,  what  he  already  guesses,  that 
John  Heywood,  once  tried  and  convicted  for 
murder,  reigns  where  Jacob  Dene  reigned,  and 
is  now,  thanks  partly  to  the  great  invention, 
the  richest  manufacturer  in  Yorkshire ;  and  that 
his  wife   Rachel,   once   Rachel    Dene,   is    his   fit 


A    SUNBEAM  IN  DEEPDALE.  287 

helpmate,  his  companion  in  all  things  noble,  and 
the  gentle  mother  of  his  many  children.  So  the 
dark  cloud  turned,  and  the  silver  lining  shone 
out  upon  the  night  at  last. 


THE    END. 


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